As It Always Will Be
by ImagineGal
Summary: The untold story of Cherandle Zarain, a young woman who ran from her country to escape marriage, and returned to it to find love. . .  Rated PG13 for language, and sexual content in later chapters
1. The Runaway

asalways01.html I sit in shock, staring up at my mother. I can't believe what she's just said.  
  
"What?" I ask.  
  
My mother puts on a faint smile. "You are going to be betrothed, Cherandle. You'll be married in two years."  
  
"What?!" I exclaim again, but my mother has already turned. I catch her sleeve. "But... But I'm only thirteen! And betrothing is something for... For royalty, and people like that..."  
  
She waves her arm, forcing my hand away. "Your father and I have made our decision." she turns and smiles, "You know you are as good as royalty to us, Cherandle."  
  
"But... But..." I stammer, "Don't I at least get a SAY?! I mean, it's my life!"  
  
"Young lady," she says, pointing, "Your father and I will choose for you. This is the way it is best. We need to make sure you are safe."  
  
"I don't WANNA be safe." I mumble, crossing my arms.  
  
"You are only thirteen, Cherandle. You are too young to know what you want." she turns and walks out, "It is our final word."  
  
With my arms still crossed, I flop down into my chair. I'm tired of my parents acting like we're nobles. For the Gods' sakes, am I the only one who realizes we're just normal people?  
  
I don't want to be a lady. I want to be adventurous. I want to do something with my life. Like explore, or fight in the army, or something like that. Anything except get betrothed . Gods, I hate that word...  
  
Suddenly, I think of the bag in my closet. It's really big... I bet I could fit a lot of food-  
  
No, no, no, that wouldn't work. I can't run away. I can't...  
  
But I'm tired of being treated like nothing by my own parents. And I know they'll just pick some brat for me to marry. I don't even have any friends...  
  
*  
It's going to rain. The clouds have been gathering for some time.  
  
I'll have to find shelter.  
  
It doesn't take me long... A small cave shows itself through the trees. It won't really be warm, but it'll allow shelter from the rain.  
  
Once inside, I try to remember what day, or maybe what time of year it is. I know it's been at least two years since I ran away, and winter just ended...  
  
A few drops land on the dirt outside. The rain has started. In a few minutes, the rain has turned into a downpour.  
  
I take out the book... The one book I brought from home. It was my favorite. A book on swordfighting my father bought me back when he was teaching me... Before my mother just took control of everything. I've now been studying out of it for the last two years, ever since I ran away. I've gotten really good. I think he'd be proud of me.  
  
After I get out my dinner, I take a moment to look at my sword- it's a small sword that I've had since I was seven- when my father decided I was responsible enough to handle a weapon- he really taught me good battle etiquette at an early age.  
  
I take the sword out of its scabbard, and in the steel I can see my reflection. I look a lot more like my father than I do my mother- at least that's what I like to think. On the one hand, I do have my father's coloring- my eyes are a bright emerald green, my hair dark purple, falling a few inches past my shoulders. I put the sword back in its scabbard and put it down. I also have a double-headed spear- I made that myself.  
  
Well, I guess the one good thing that came out of my parents' noble nature was the fact that I learned to fight so well... At least until my mother-  
  
BOOM.  
  
What was that? I look up. A sound like a small explosion, far off in the distance, has just sounded through the driving rain.  
  
BOOM. There it is again... Sounds like it could be a dragon. Or maybe guymelefs landing. But I must be miles away from civilization. What would guymelefs be doing this far out...?  
  
BOOM. I've got to do something. Sounds like it's coming this way... If it is a dragon, I'd run much more of a risk running out into the storm and facing the possibility of meeting a dragon face-to-face... Besides, this might not even be its cave...  
  
BOOM. Taking my sword from the floor, I scoot as far back into the cave as I can. It's getting closer still... Maybe I should make a run for it. But I wouldn't be able to see a foot in front of my face! What should I do...?  
  
BOOM. Too late. Through the rain I can see a shadowy figure. It is hesitating outside the cave entrance. I hug my sword close, hoping I don't need to use it...  
  
There is a small screech. It can smell me. I know it. I find myself shuddering and try to calm my nerves. If I have to fight it, I will. It will be a test of my swordfighting skill.  
  
With another, louder screech, the dragon enters the cave. I react at once, drawing my sword from its scabbard.  
  
The dragon leaps forward, but the roof of the cave is low and it cannot jump far. The structure of the cave will give me some advantage. I leap out of the way of its teeth, trying to wound it from underneath, but the low roof is causing it to press its belly to the ground. I'll have to wound it some other way. I grab for my spear before it can attack again. I begin to climb onto its back.  
  
The dragon lets loose a fireball, which evaporates a good deal of moisture on the cave walls, and forms steam. The suddenness of the flame startles me; I slip a bit and scratch my leg on the dragon's rough skin. Once I find my balance, I start towards its head.  
  
It isn't trashing- there isn't enough room. But I'll have to look out for its tail. That's waving around outside the cave, and I'll have to try not to get near it.  
  
As soon as I reach the head, I plunge my small sword into one of its eyes. The dragon squeals, and as it does I insert my spear vertically into its mouth, praying that it doesn't let loose any more fire.  
  
It doesn't, and as I draw my sword out of its eye, its head thrashes about, and I am thrown to the cave wall. The impact does little to harm me, but as I fall I can hear a crack,  followed by a sharp pain.  
  
My ankle is broken, and my plan, which was to attempt to make the dragon roll in pain and then to stab it in the chest, has failed. The double-headed spear and the eye wound alone won't kill it.  
  
I have lost.  
  
Suddenly, the dragon squeals again as if it is being attacked. I turn my head towards the cave entrance. Several shadowy shapes run in from the sheets of rain and fall upon the dragon. Soon it is dead, and they remove the Energist, cheering as though it was all a game. All this time I am cowering against the cave wall, afraid of I know not what, but afraid nonetheless.  
  
It is only when they turn to leave that I realize they are my only chance of escape. "Help!" I shout at the top of my lungs, praying they hear me, "Please help!"  
  
One of them hears me. It signals to the others, and heads back into the cave, towards me.  
  
When it is close enough, I see that it is a boy, with light blonde hair and violet eyes. He is wearing some sort of dark blue uniform.  
  
"All you all right, Miss?" he asks.  
  
"I..." I start, "I think my ankle is-"  
  
"Gatti! What are you doing back there?" Another voice shouts from outside. Another one of them starts its way back into the cave. It is another boy, with a slightly different uniform, and he is running one hand through his white hair as if the water in it were a horrible nuisance.  
  
"A woman in distress, Lord Dilandau," says Gatti, indicating me.  
  
"Really..." the other seems slightly amused by this. He walks closer, then turns sharply to me with a sort of half-scowl, "What's your name, girl?"  
  
"Cherandle Zarain, lord." I bow my head, "Forgive me for not standing in your presence... I fear my ankle is broken."  
  
I'm trying to get on his good side, but the scowl only gets deeper, "Do I detect a note of sarcasm in that voice of yours?"  
  
"Oh, no! No, of course not, lord..." I shake my head, then bow again, "...It would not suit me to insult one who would... Save my life..."  
  
"Hmm." he seems to be considering my statement. "What did you say your name was? Zarain, was it?" He doesn't give me a chance to answer, "Where are you from?"  
  
I consider my response. Any answer could make or break my escape fro this predicament. I finally decide to tell the truth, "...Zaibach, lord. I was born in the capital."  
  
"I see..." I cringe. His voice holds a dark tone, "You're that little brat who ran away two years ago, aren't you? Your parents tried to get a search party sent out for you a few times. Quite common folk, actually." He pauses, then turns to Gatti, "Let's move out."  
  
"But sir-"  
  
"I said move out." Dilandau says fiercely. Then he sighs, "Tell me, Gatti, why should I save her when she abandoned her country? Or do you, perhaps, know something that I do not?" It sounds more like a challenge than a question.  
  
"May I  save her then, sir?" Gatti asks with half a smirk. Apparently this was not the right answer. As response, Gatti receives a sharp backhand across the face, which echos above the sound of the rain. I cringe again, fearing for my survival.  
  
But Gatti has stood his ground, and Dilandau seems to be reconsidering, "You're a smart one, Gatti," he says, and turns, "Very well. Carry her out if you must. I'll have no part of it. Move out."  
  
Gatti picks me up. I'm beginning to feel faint- partly from pain, partly from relief that I'm being saved- but I thank him, and he smiles down at me.  
  
My sword is scabbarded at my side, and there's no chance that my spear survived... But I think of my book. I want to try and get it...  
  
But the last thing I see before I pass out in Gatti's arms are the pages of my father's book being scattered to the rain-soaked winds.  
  
*  
  
I've now been kept in the healing ward of the Vione, a Floating Fortress for two weeks, and in that time have learned all that's happened in my absence from Zaibach. I have also met most of the Dragon Slayers. There are thirteen in all, and even a couple girls. Most of them, especially Gatti, have been very kind to me since my arrival.  
  
I myself have told them about my past- about life before and after I ran away. I wonder what will happen when I return home. It seems, however, that after spending two years in the wilderness, facing my tyrannical mother will be a trivial matter.  
  
As for Dilandau, he is nowhere to be seen.  
  
Well, I've gone over all this while sitting in bed, brushing my dark purple hair. My ankle has healed, and I am to leave tomorrow.  
  
I don't want to leave. This place has begun to feel like home... Probably because it's the only long-term residence I've known in two years. Yeah, two weeks does seem like long term, I'm pretty sure the longest I've stayed in one place before now was five days.  
  
I stand up. It feels weird to walk, but it doesn't hurt. I take a short walk around the room, trying to get used to it.  
  
Shoof.  As I reach the bed, the door to the healing ward slides open.  
  
It's Chesta, another one of the Dragon Slayers.  
  
"Lord Dilandau wishes to see you," he says, "He says to bring your sword..."  
  
*  
  
I stand in what seems like a sort of throne room, holding my small sword at my side. Against one wall, almost hidden in shadow, is a man named Folken Strategoes. Lord Folken is a quiet man with what I find to be an intimidating presence- he seems to ooze authority from every pore with hardly a word. Before me, on a throne with the statue of a lion behind it, is Lord Dilandau.  
  
I do a half-bow and then straighten again, waiting for one of them to say something.  
  
Then, Dilandau speaks.  
  
"Cherandle Zarain," he says, "My men have reported to me stories you've told regarding your skill and training in swordfighting. They believe you can be of use. That remains to be seen." He pauses. "Have you had any past military experience?"  
  
"Not personally, Lord," I say, "My father served in the armed forces for a little while. He taught me everything I know."  
  
Dilandau glances over at Lord Folken, then a half smirk crosses his lips as he looks back at me. He leans back in his seat.  
  
"Show me."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Soooooooooo... what'cha think? More? Less? A little off the top, perhaps? ;-) Please review! 


	2. The Soldier

asalways02.html It takes quite a while to demonstrate all I know in the art of swordfighting. I can see the pictures from the book in my mind, I can hear my father's voice in my ear. And all this while, neither Dilandau nor Folken say a word.  
  
When I finally finish, I return my sword to its scabbard and bow. I am exhausted from the demonstration, and sweat covers my brow. I gave it everything I've got. The only thing I can do is wait for their response.  
  
"You're not bad," Dilandau says after a moment.  
  
"Thank you, Lord Dilandau," I reply.  
  
He rises from his throne, "Of course, you must know that being a Dragon Slayer requires more than simple skill." He begins walking towards me, "We are fast becoming one of the most elite military groups in all Zaibach. I cannot accept weaklings." His eyes narrow, and he goes on, "You must be willing to fight and die for the sake of your country and your leader. You must accept the position of honor and respect that you may... and WILL... receive as part of being a Dragon Slayer." He is now circling me, and as he comes around my right side, he raises a hand as if to strike me, but it is only a threat. A test. I stand my ground.  
  
Dilandau heads back towards his throne. "If you accept all these terms," he goes on, sitting down, "You will be bestowed with a uniform, and a guymelef once the group is complete. Do you understand?"  
  
I bow, "Yes, my lord. Is that all?  
  
"Yes," he says, "You are dismissed to return to the healing ward. You will receive my decision tomorrow."  
  
As the door closes behind me, I can hear Lord Dilandau and Lord Folken talking. I hope with all my heart that they decide to recruit me. This is my chance, the only chance I've ever had, to do something with my life.  
  
And if I'm forced to return to my family, it may be the only chance I'll ever get...  
As I turn to walk down the hall, I see a Dragon Slayer that I haven't met before. It's a tall girl with curly, light purple hair, pulled back in a ponytail.  
  
"Well, looks like you just got recruited," she says.  
  
"I'm not recruited yet," I reply.  
  
"Oh, sure you are." She shrugs, "You've probably heard that conditions between Zaibach and Fanelia are getting pretty tense. Lord Dilandau's trying to get the Dragon Slayers finished quickly in case we have to fight. You'll be recruited just as long as you have the skill. And the nerve." She holds out a hand. "By the way, I don't think we've been properly introduced. Name's Viole Stratten."  
  
"Cherandle Zarain." I say, shaking her hand.  
  
"So I guess you've already met Malenla and Julie," she says, referring to the other two girls. Malenla is a rather short girl with violet eyes and long, golden hair held back in a braid. Julie is a taller, more heavyset girl with short, brown hair and blue eyes.  
  
"How do you know that?" I ask.  
  
"They told me," she says. We begin walking down the hall together.  
  
"So what's there to do around here?" I ask, looking around.  
  
"Eat, sleep, and train." Viole shrugs, "That's pretty much it... Besides listening to whatever Lord Dilandau or Lord Folken say."  
  
"So what were you doing hunting a dragon?"  
  
"Part of our training. Teaches us to approach silently; sometimes we practice attack formations, too. Also, having the extra Energists doesn't hurt... And you've gotta admit that going out in rain like that takes some endurance."  
  
"Mm." I say in agreement.  
  
Suddenly, Viole waves to someone coming down the corridor, "Hey! Dalet!"  
  
A boy with longish light brown hair joins us.  
  
"What are you doing out here?" Viole asks.  
  
"Taking a break." Dalet wipes his brow, "It's so humid today."  
  
"Yeah, well." Viole lowers her eyelids, 'I'd betcha this fortress that Gatti and Migel won't quit till mealtime. Those guys are like machines."  
  
"Tell me about it," Dalet grins. Suddenly, he seems to notice me, "Hey, I know you. Cherandle, right?" He came to visit me once before, in the healing ward.  
  
"Right," I say.  
  
He shakes my hand, "I heard from Chesta that you were going to see Lord Dilandau."  
"She's number fourteen," Viole pipes up.  
  
"Really?" Dalet raises his eyebrows at her. He still hasn't let go of my hand. He shakes it again, "So I guess that only leaves one. Welcome aboard."  
  
I smile.  
  
*  
  
I've been a Dragon Slayer for about a week and a half now. Everyone has seemed to warm to me- that is, as warm as anyone can get in a military group.  
  
Currently, we're all sitting around a long, rectangular table, having dinner.  
  
Guimel takes a sip from his cup, "Hey, didja hear? We might get number fifteen in a few days!"  
  
"Mm-hm." Rafael nods. He's taller than me, with blonde hair- his hair's a bit long for a boy. And he's a little conceited. But very serious about being a Dragon Slayer. "You know what that means."  
  
"Guymelefs!" Migel raises his cup in the air.  
  
"Amen!" Viole shouts, repeating the gesture.  
  
None of the Dragon Slayers- myself included- have ever actually operated a guymelef. We've had simulation training programs... But I wonder how close they are to the real thing.  
  
I'm also, for the first time in two and a half years, beginning to really miss my parents. Well, it's not so much missing them as wondering how they are. Dilandau said they tried to get a search party sent out for me. How long did it take before they gave up...?  
  
I suddenly feel very lonely and empty inside. I stand up.  
  
"Where you going?" asks Dalet, who is sitting next to me.  
  
"Just going for a walk," I say, and leave.  
  
*  
  
It sometimes seems to me that the many corridors of the Floating Fortress were made for long walks. Or at least the ones that go around the outer rim. They're vast, and the windows give you a spectacular view of the world outside. Perfect for reflecting on things.  
  
I somehow find myself in the training room. It's empty. I stand in the center and draw my sword, pretending to face off an invisible enemy. I thrust and parry as if it were a real fight, only in slow motion.  
  
This goes on for a bit until I suddenly feel someone watching me. I turn. Lord Dilandau is leaning against the doorframe. His face has that almost expressionless, half-amused look it seems to doff most of the time. I stand there, embarrassed and confused. Embarrassed because I hadn't noticed him watching in the first place. Confused because I don't know what to do. Should I keep fighting my invisible opponent?  
  
He answers my question without a word, slowly drawing his sword and pointing it at me.  
  
Oh,  I think, taking a ready stance.  
  
We stand in silence for a moment. He seems to be waiting for something. Perhaps I'm supposed to make the first move?...  
  
Finally I do. Gathering my courage and strength, I charge him, and our swords catch each other. Mine slips upward and his comes down to my side. I take two steps in the opposite direction to avoid it. He attacks. I block it. His sword swings around again and hits mine, forcing me backwards. Now it's my turn to attack. I thrust my sword forward and it is dodged. His sword knocks mine upwards, I swing horizontally and am blocked. I then barely dodge a downwards thrust and block a horizontal swing.  
  
This is crazy,  I think, He's either really good or he's really trying to kill me.  
  
For a few moments I'm lost in thought, and in the process I'm being forced back into a wall. I get my bearings again and try to move forward or maybe around him, but it's too late. He's got me trapped.  
  
I spin around to block a wild thrust, and as I turn to face him again, our swords meet once again, blade to blade. They stay in place, both of us struggling. My back is to the wall.  
  
We're still for a time. Our faces are inches away from each other.  
  
Then Dilandau smiles and takes two steps backwards.  
  
"Not bad at all," he says, sheathing his sword. He then turns and leaves.  
  
I stand against the wall, almost in a daze. It hasn't been my first swordfight- I've fought the other Dragon Slayers during combat training.  
  
But I've never seen Lord Dilandau fight. He's always either been commanding us or meeting somewhere with Lord Folken. He was so... aggressive.  
  
Why am I shivering?  
  
I try to put my mind off it. I sheath my sword and start on my way back to the barracks...  
  
*  
  
Suddenly I'm back in the training room.  
  
In a distant corner of my mind, I know that I am dreaming.  
  
I hear a noise. I turn. Dilandau stands in front of me with his sword drawn.  
  
We begin to fight, stepping around the room in the graceful dance of mortal sword combat. I don't look down, but I could almost swear that we're both floating slightly above the floor.  
  
Finally it ends, our sword locked against each other. He is standing behind me, his free arm around my waist, his head resting against mine.  
  
His sword is moving down. Mine follows it and both blades end up resting in the spot between my shoulder and neck. Dilandau now has two choices... They first, move his face an inch and a half forward, and let our lips meet. The second, move his blade an inch and a half to the side, and slice my throat.  
  
It is not my decision to make.  
  
The arm around my waist tightens, and a sly smile takes its place on Dilandau's face.  
  
As he moves forward to kiss me, he is also moving his arms to embrace me, and I can feel the icy touch of sharp steel on my neck...  
  
I awake less than a second before the final decision is made, staring up towards the ceiling from my bunk below Gatti and above an empty bed, reserved for number fifteen.  
  
I have soon slowed my breathing and loosened my grip on the sheets. But my mind is going a mile a minute. How could something be so pleasant and so terrifying all at once? To feel such closeness to both love and death... I could smell the sweat on his skin...  
  
Woah, hey, woah, just HOLD UP a minute, Cherandle ol' girl. Remember who you're talking about here. This is DILANDAU. This is the same guy who, when you first met him, slapped one of your new best friends across the face. This is the guy who wanted to abandon you! Remember?!  
  
You DO remember, do you...?  
  
Oh, crap.  
  
I roll onto my side, scolding myself for these emotions. It makes absolutely no sense, I think. How could something like this spring up so fast? It has to be something that will eventually pass, or something that I'll be able to stop myself from feeling. It's too impetuous. It's not like me.  
  
Or maybe... Maybe things like this are things that are all too true, that can't be denied, and must be acted upon quickly before you lose the chance forever...  
  
But how? It seems utterly impossible that he should return my feelings. I mean, even if he was to "go for" anyone, it would probably be someone like Malenla... She's a lot more aggressive than I am, and prettier, too.  
  
Or maybe he does  prefer the vulnerable kind, I think, blood rushing to my cheeks. Maybe he likes things like that, where he can take control...  
  
No, no, no, no, no, I think, shaking my head and sighing, love is the last  thing on his  mind, if it's even there at all.  What happened this evening was simply a test of my skill. What else could it have been, coming from someone like Dilandau?  
  
Eventually, I'm so lost in thought that I fall asleep again.  
  
*  
  
"It's official," says Viole, "Number fifteen's arriving sometime today."  
  
"Wonder who it'll be," Chesta muses.  
  
Rafael smirks, "Place your bets... boy or girl?"  
  
We are not far from one of the landing docks, and suddenly we hear a noise. A soldier emerges from the hallway leading to the dock. He seems to be in a bit of a frenzy.  
  
"Hey," I call to him, "What's going on?"  
  
"A former general is paying a surprise visit," he says, and runs on.  
  
"Wow!" I exclaim. I signal to the others, "Let's go."  
  
"Wait." Rafael catches my arm, "We should report back to Dilandau. He'll probably want us to greet this guy as a unit."  
  
"Oh. Right." I say, and switch directions, "Let's go, then."  
  
*  
  
All fourteen Dragon Slayers stand at attention in Dilandau's throne room. He and Lord Folken stand talking to the former general. I can't quite make out what they're saying, but when Dilandau turns away from the man for a few seconds, I gasp at what I see. 


	3. The General

asalways03.html "...A general ?"  
  
My father nods solemnly, "I was only in the armed forces for a few years, but I rose to power very quickly... My father was also connected with the military, and he had taught me everything... All his fantastic skill. Then I married your mother. She tried to make me give up my position in the army, but my father was always there to silence her. As long as he was around, she could not control my life.  
  
"Cherandle, you might think that your mother's reign on our family started when you were ten... But it began long before then... A few months after we got married, my father died. I gave up my position. Your mother saw how broken I was and allowed me to teach you battle skills once you were born... But she forbade me to tell you anything about my military past... Besides the fact that I had one.  
  
"You see, Cherandle, to your mother, war... And the idea of the army itself... Was an atrocity, an abomination, something of such brutality that it was unthinkable. I still think it was some trauma from her past that she didn't want to reveal... but while I was teaching you swordfighting and battle etiquette, she was out spending all our money just to forget her grief... We became poor."  
  
All the military pleasantries have ended by now. My father and I are standing, looking out at the world through one of the Vione's vast window. But my eyes seem mute. My ears are seeing everything through my father's words.  
  
"And when you turned ten... It was as if she just couldn't take it anymore. She tightened her grip, and took complete control. I cared too much about her feelings to try and stop her..."  
  
"But father..." I say, "When I first met Lord Dilandau, he said you had tried to get a... Well, he called you 'common'."  
  
"Hm." My father smiles. He seems almost amused. "Yes, we tried to get a search party sent out for you a few times. Truth is, the military was simply too occupied with forming the empire to send out a search party for one girl... I knew it and your mother knew it, but we figured it was worth a shot. Also, well... Since I abandoned the army, most of them don't have a very high opinion of me..."  
  
I'm looking straight out the window now. I'm trying not to cry. "So where is Mother now?"  
  
"I honestly don't know," he says, "I left her after our third... and final... request for a search party was denied. That must've been... Dear me... Almost a year ago. But at least her reign is over..."  
  
Suddenly, I've broken down in tears. I cover my face with my hands and sob.  
  
"My daughter!" He exclaims. I throw my arms around him.  
  
"Oh, father!" I cry, holding him tight, "...I'm so happy to know the truth!..."  
  
He returns the embrace, "And I am relieved... That you now know..."  
  
I pull away from him and wipe the tears from my eyes. I look up into his eyes... Bright green, like mine. And his hair color matches mine exactly.  
  
Well,  I think, As long as he confessed his story...  
  
"Father," I say, "I should probably tell you that... I... I mean, I think that I might have-"  
  
He holds up a hand to stop me, "I know what your trying to tell me. Well, it was bound to happen, with you traveling all over Gaea for two years. You found a boy, eh?" He playfully punches my shoulder, and I can't help but smile, "Well, I think that's wonderful. Anything's better than having an arranged marriage. I tell ya, I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to that.  I'm not going to try to control you like your mother did. I trust you to make the right choices. Get it while the getting's good, I say." We both laugh at that last comment.  
  
"You came all this way just to see me?" I ask when the sound of our laughter dies down.  
  
"No," he shakes his head, "Actually, I had no idea you were here. I just came to check up on the situation with Fanelia... I suppose you've heard about Escaflowne already."  
  
I nod, "A guymelef of Fanelia. We're going to try to capture it once the new king is crowned."  
  
"Hm." He says, "Well, you should be hearing a lot more about it soon... Especially since your unit is almost complete." He turns towards me again and lays his hand on my shoulders, "Oh, my daughter..." He says, "I could not be prouder of you."  
  
"Thank you, father."  
  
*  
  
"Your FATHER? That guy was your FATHER?!"  
  
"Yeah." I nod. I've actually gotten over the shock of it by now. Gatti, on the other hand, has only just heard about it, and seems in a daze.  
  
"What a mind job!" Migel, in the bunk across from out, exclaims, "Did he know you were here?"  
  
"No," I say, shaking my head, "He said he had just come to check on the situation with Fanelia."  
  
The entire barracks is abuzz with conversation- about number fifteen, about guymelefs, and, of course, about my father.  
  
"You mother must be one tough lady," says Gatti.  
  
"That's why I left." I say.  
  
Suddenly, the door shoofs open. It's not Dilandau... It's about as tall as Rafael. All conversation stops and we all turn to look at this figure, who walks into the room. It's a boy with spiky gray hair and glasses.  
  
We all know who... Or rather, what he is, but I suppose Gatti can't help teasing this newcomer a bit. He jumps down from his bunk, "And who are you?" He asks.  
  
"I'm Kestrel Skye," he says, looking a little put off, "Lord Dil-"  
  
But Gatti interrupts him, his face breaking into a grin, "Ah, so you're the fifteenth Dragon Slayer. Congratulations! My name's Gatti." All the rest of us see that as our cue to jump down as well and introduce ourselves.  
  
After everyone has told Kestrel their name, Migel turns to him, "Kestrel, huh? So how come you're named after a guymelef regiment?..." the Kestrel Regiment- it's an elite guymelef unit of Zaibach.  
  
"Yeah, what kind of person would name their kid 'Kestrel'?" Malenla asks, her arms crossed.  
  
"The same sort of person who would command the Kestrel Regiment," says Kestrel.  
  
Migel's jaw drops, "Your father commands the Kestrels?"  
  
"Ever ridden a guymelef?" Guimel asks.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Wow!" Everyone is impressed. Gatti speaks up, "What kind?"  
  
"I've mostly trained with ground units," he explains, "But I've also ridden the Alseides model."  
  
"You're lucky," Dalet rolls his eyes, "All we ever get to do is simulations."  
  
Migel claps Kestrel on the back, "Not anymore, now that we've got good ol' number fifteen, here." He ruffles Kestrel's hair. Kestrel doesn't seem to appreciate that very much.  
  
"I hear the ones they're issuing us have got flamethrowers." Says Corran- he's shorter than me, but not as short as Malenla- and he's got flaming red hair and dark brown eyes, almost black.  
  
"Yeah, and liquid metal claws!" Raphael exclaims. The other guys cheer. Viole and I look at each other and roll our eyes. I can tell we're thinking the same thing- Boys...  Although I have to admit the idea of liquid metal claws sounds really  cool.  
  
Our thoughts and cheers are interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat very loudly. We all turn to see who it is, and then snap to attention. Dilandau is standing in the doorway.  
  
"Now that this group is complete, I don't want to waste any more time," he says, "You will all report immediately to the hanger to be issued your guymelefs." He leaves.  
  
There is a pause for a moment, where it seems no one knows exactly what to do. Then Gatti turns to Kestrel, "Well, Skye, guess you can take that bunk, under Cherandle's and mine. You can store your gear in the compartment behind the bed."  
  
"The rest of us should get going," says Viole.  
  
"I'll stay here and make sure Kestrel gets to the hanger," says Gatti. The rest of us leave in the direction of the hanger.  
  
*  
  
Dilandau enters the hanger moments after Gatti and Kestrel arrive. The rest of us had been admiring the guymelefs- they're blue, with a very intriguing design. They're small, but they appear very maneuverable. And to me, the thought of flying in... or simply OPERATING... the Alseides is very exciting.  
  
But now that Dilandau is here, we're all standing at attention again. As he walks to and stops in the area between us and the guymelefs, I realize that one thing I really like about him is his face- and not the face itself really, more like the range of expressions it can take on. It's not even that simple; his face almost has its own personality. And the smallest smile to the slightest adjustment of his eyebrows can magically alter his attitude.  
  
And right now, even as he strides calmly in front of us, his face shows him to be just as excited about this as the rest of us.  
  
"Time for your assignments," he says. He moves down the line of guymelefs, calling out a name with each one. The guymelefs have no insignia or identifying marks yet, so they're simply given out in order by last name. I, of course, am the last to be assigned a guymelef. But I don't care.  
  
We all stand by our guymelefs- all fifteen of us- and we are no longer a simple military group. We are now a Melef Unit. A feeling of pride and honor flows through me.  
  
Dilandau interrupts the silence that has been occupying the hanger for the last few moments:  
  
"We will begin training immediately."  
  
*  
  
We don't actually get to operate the Alseideses in that first afternoon. After they are moved to a training area- much larger than the sword combat training room- we are given a sort of instruction session on how to use them.  
  
The flamethrowers are simple enough. To operate them, we just push a button in the arm of the guymelef. However, the flamethrowers are not to be used unless orders are given.  
  
The liquid metal, or crima claw, is another story- in both arms of every Alseides are two knobs, a button, and a small sort of lever. Knob One controls how many claws we want- up to five. The button shoots the claws- press it once to prepare them, a second time to shoot. The lever controls the heat- and therefore the moldability- of the claws, and the final knob is to warp the claws. The more to the left the knob is turned, the more warped the claw becomes. If there is too much heat used, the Energist will override and the guymelef will fall.  
  
Then, there is the flight mode- to activate it, we push down on the foot stirrups, and to deactivate we bend our knees and pulls our legs slightly apart. The stealth cloaks- activated by a switch in the right arm- cannot be used in flight.  
  
Although we don't actually start up our melefs, we do sit inside them in order to learn all this. It seems very complicated from the looks of everything. Not to mention we'll have to activate the crima claws by feel only.  
  
I hope I can get this all figured out before the prince of Fanelia is crowned...  
  
*  
  
We're once again back in the barracks, this time to go to sleep. All our sleeping clothes are the same- a simple white set of pajamas. Quite a cool alternative to the sometimes sweaty leather uniforms.  
  
It seems that no one is able to get to sleep tonight- we're all talking about our lives before we joined the team. In honor of Kestrels' arrival, I suppose. Once we've all taken our turn and told our story, the bunk groups fall into their own separate conversations.  
  
As for me, I'm just lying in bed looking at the bunk farthest from mine... Well, not really looking at it, just sort of staring off into nothing.  
  
My eyes are currently on the top bed of the bunk farthest from mine. Xori occupies that bed. He's very tall, a bit taller even than Viole, with long, black hair that he keeps in a ponytail, and beetle-black eyes. He seldom speaks... But when he does, what is said usually contains either great wisdom, philosophy, or advice. He was the son of a monk who, when he found out Xori was joining the army, flew into a rage and nearly disowned him. But Xori eventually got his way anyway.  
  
Below Xori is Palem. One probably wouldn't even notice her if it weren't for her looks... She's got purple eyes, and the kind of hair that's black and is so shiny that it shines blue, so the person always seems to have a halo of blue light around their head. Palem, like Xori, isn't much of a talker, but in her case it's because she's shy. It was a bit of a shock to find out tonight that she has military parents- who most likely forced her into this.  
  
And then, below Palem, is a boy with light brown hair and gray eyes. He is speaking to his fellow bunkmates almost constantly. You see, this boy, Alix, is much more of a talker than Xori or Palem. He's very opinionated about the things he knows. We all found out tonight that if Alix hadn't been here, he probably would have been working in his family's factory, which, I agree, would not have been a good move. I don't think Alix could sit still for a second.  
  
When my eyes finally decide to go drifting off somewhere else, my mind drifts to the occupants of my own bunkmates. We all knew where Kestrel was coming from, but Gatti's story pretty much shocked all of us who hadn't heard it before. The son of a farmer! I wouldn't have thought it.  
  
Below me, Kestrel is unpacking his stuff- my bunk is mostly empty, save my childhood sword which hangs on the bedframe... It's too small to use in combat, anyway. Although when he heard about the swordfighting book, Father promised to send a few new books to me.  
  
The first thing Kestrel takes out of his bag is a sword. "Nice sword." Gatti remarks.  
  
"It's my father's," says Kestrel.  
  
I want to get a closer look. "Can I see it?"  
  
The sword is passed up to me, and I give it a short inspection. There's a hawk on the pommel and some words inscribed on the hilt- 'Never Surrender'.  
  
"It's beautiful," I say, passing it back down to him. The next thing out of the bag is a set of books, then finally, an old-looking guitar.  
  
"Can you play that?" Gatti asks.  
  
"Er, kind of." Kestrel adjusts his glasses, "My Dad's aide was teaching me a play when I joined up."  
  
"Great!" Gatti exclaims, "I share my bunk group with a girl and a half-trained guitar player."  
  
Kestrel and I throw our pillows at him.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Disclaimer Time!  
  
I do not/do not claim to own Dilandau, Folken, the Vione, etc, etc. I DO, however, own the character Cherandle Zarain, as well as her father, Malenla, Julie, Rafael, Corran, Xori, and Palem. The characters Kestrel Skye and Alix, and the Kestrel Regiment, belong to Kestrel, and are used with his permission. 


	4. The Battle

asalways04.html A Quick A/N: Before anyone asks me about the "seven moons", here's the explanation- I go by the theory that a "moon" on Gaea equals a day. So there.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The package from my father arrives seven moons into our guymelef training. It's evening, and Kestrel is sitting below me, attempting to plunk out a decent tune on that guitar of his. Guymelef traingin doesn't allow much time for guitar practice, but he still isn't half bad.  
  
The package includes three books- one is a history of guymelefs and guymelef design, a second is a book on swordfighting similar to the other one, and finally, my favorite storybook from childhood, which I used to sit with on the front steps of our house when I was a little girl. It's a collection of stories, and I'm happy to have it back- even if it looks odd sitting in between the two other books.  
  
But there is also another package, too long and thin to be books. I open it tentatively. Could it be...?  
  
As I pull open the box, I see a piece of paper folded in half. I unfold it.  
  
My dearest daughter,  
  
I am sending this along with the books because I know you have more need for it than I. I have no need or desire to rejoin the army, and I know that you will carry on the traditions of bravery and skill that the Zarains have carried through time. I only hope that you will learn from my mistakes.  
  
Use this sword wisely, Cherandle.  
  
All my love,  
  
Your father, Arvan Zarain  
  
I take out the sword. It's gorgeous. The handle is gold with green highlights, and in the center is what looks like a crest- A golden Z on a black background, with some sort of green bird flying behind the Z.  
  
I notice that there is more writing on the back of the letter. I turn it over...  
  
I suppose I should explain to you our family crest. if you look at the butt of the handle you should notice a word.  
  
I look. Inscribed in black is a single word...  
  
REBORN  
  
I turn back to the letter.  
  
This word is our family motto. It reminds us that no matter how extreme things are- whether they are bleak or terrifying or joyous or honorable- they can always be reborn again, stronger than they were before. And as each tradition is passed on, it is reborn with each generation. That is why our symbol is a phoenix, and why the color is green, the color of renewal.  
  
I am now passing this sword to you Cherandle. The tradition is reborn, as it rightly should have been, and as it always will be.  
  
I hold the letter to my heart.  
  
"What's that?" It's Gatti's voice. He is looking over the edge of his bed.  
  
"It's my father's sword," I half-whisper. My father's sword!  
  
I take another look at the Zarain family crest... The family crest!... and hang the sword on the opposite side of the bedframe from my childhood sword. I fold the letter back in half and slip it into the inside cover of the swordfighting book.  
  
*  
  
"You feeling all right, Kestrel?"  
  
Kestrel carefully rubs his left cheek, "Yeah. I think I'll survive."  
  
We're just finished a mock battle with part of the Chimera Regiment, and all the Dragon Slayers are hanging out in the corridor.  
  
"Wonder why he didn't hit you," Kestrel says, a hint of both jealousy and curiosity in his voice. He is referring to the fact that he and I, well... Bent orders a bit to "take out" the Chimera HQ. Dilandau was pretty angry.  
  
"Probably because it was your  idea," I reply, giving his shoulder a playful shove.  
  
I myself receive a playful smack on the back of my head. It's from Migel, who's standing right next to me, "Maybe he doesn't hit his female recruits," he says with a joking tone, "Cause he knows you're all such weaklings." I stick my tongue out at him. He repeats the gesture.  
  
"Hey, maybe he likes  you!" Corran shouts from across the group. That remark sends us all into peals of laughter.  
  
We know that Lord Dilandau would be in a rage if he heard any of this, but we're all in high spirits from our "victory". If this is what it feels like to win a fake battle, I can't wait until we go for real. I suppose I get that from my father- the thrill I get during a battle, that is.  
  
Corran smoothes back his hair. He steps up backwards onto the first rung of the railing, "Hear ye, hear ye!" he shouts very eloquently, "I hereby challenge any he who has the nerve... Or who just needs to blow off some steam... To a duel in the sword combat training room!"  
  
Alix laughs theatrically, "Ha, ha! I accept your challenge!"  
  
Corran jumps down and the two of them run off, the rest at their heels. Gatti shouts to me, "Hey, Cherandle, you coming?"  
  
"In a second!" I call back. I watch them run off a bit, then look down over the edge of the railing.  
  
Then, I look up again. Lord Dilandau is walking along the walkway at the other end of the corridor. Suddenly he stops and turns to look at me. Our eyes meet from across the gap.  
  
I feel myself blushing and look away. But suddenly I remember myself, and slowly stand up straight until I'm at attention. But he has already turned away and has begun to walk on.  
  
I look down again. Corran's words echo in my head. Hey, maybe he  likes you...  I smile and shake my head. Corran and his jokes...  
  
I turn and run to catch the others.  
  
*  
  
A soldier interrupts our training.  
  
We've been working with our guymelefs for some time now... It's really not as hard as I thought. The controls are quite simple, once you get used to them.  
  
We are in the middle of mock one-on-one battles- I'm fighting Palem- when the soldier runs in. Dilandau gets out of his guymelef and goes to speak with the soldier, who eventually leaves. Dilandau orders up all out of our guymelefs.  
  
After we have all gotten out and are standing at attention in front of him, Dilandau begins to speak.  
  
"We have received news from our spies that the prince of Fanelia is leaving to perform his rite of passage," he says, "And this unit has been selected to lead off the search for the Dragon." Dragon- the nickname for Escaflowne used in Zaibach. No words are spoken- but I can feel a current of excitement running through all the Dragon Slayers. We all know what this means- that the Empire is recognizing us as a skilled unit. I can see the same feeling of pride reflected in Dilandau's eyes as well. "We will leave tomorrow to begin the attack on Fanelia. So today is our last chance to train. that means I want to see you all working your hardest. Is that understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir!" We exclaim in unison.  
  
"Excellent," he says with a smirk, "Resume training immediately."  
  
As we all start making our way back to our melefs, Palem turns to me. "A real  battle?" She has a gentle, quiet voice.  
  
"Yeah," I say, leaning against my melef, "Why? You nervous?" I'm not mocking her, it's just that she seems edgy.  
  
"Well... yeah, kind of," she says, "I mean, one of the reasons I came here was because of my fear of violence, and well..."  
  
"Your parents aren't military?"  
  
"Oh, they are." She says, "That's why I joined. I didn't want to let them down."  
  
"But you don't seem too afraid of Lord Dilandau," I say with an encouraging smile. Dilandau's just gotten into his melef.  
  
"Well... no." It almost seems as if she's realizing this for the first time, "I guess I figured if those other guys could take it, so can I." She begins walking back to her Alseides.  
  
I jump up onto my melef to begin the climb up to the control chamber, "Maybe you never had a fear of violence in the first place," I say.  
  
She stops walking for a moment, her back to me.  
  
"Maybe not." I hear her say as she resumes walking.  
  
*  
  
"I just can't believe it!" Viole exclaims, "A real battle already!"  
  
"Speak for yourself," says Rafael, "I was one of the first to join. Think of how long I waited just to get a stinkin' guymelef."  
  
Alix speaks up, "If your guymelef stinks, Rafael, that's your own fault!" That makes us all laugh.  
  
It's dinnertime, and the whole table is buzzing with talk of tomarrow's journey. I'm sitting in between Viole and Kestrel. Across from me is Migel.  
  
"Wonder what the Dragon looks like," Gatti, sitting to Migel's right, muses.  
  
"I don't think anybody really knows that except the people of Fanelia," says Malenla with a lofty tone, "And it hasn't been seen outside of Fanelia for years.  There are rumors that it's a very beautiful guymelef."  
  
"So it's beautiful," Corran says flippantly, "What the heck's Emperor Dornkirk want it for, anyway?"  
  
Viole shrugs, "Beats me. What would he want with a 'melef that could only be operated by a Fanelian king, anyway?"  
  
"Oh, that's just a story," Julie scoffs.  
  
"How do you  know?" Viole retorts, "Maybe it's Ispano."  
  
"'They say', 'they say'..." Migel mutters. he looks up from his meal, "Just what do we know about this thing , anyway?"  
  
"We know that it looks different from any other guymelef," says Kestrel, "We also know it'll be coming out of the royal shrine."  
  
"Good enough for me," says Rafael.  
  
*  
  
We leave early the next morning. It's a ways to Fanelia, and we want to use the guymelefs as much as possible- a Floating Fortress is risky, even when it's cloaked.  
  
No conversation takes place as we travel. Save the footsteps of our melefs, we are completely silent as well as invisible.  
  
And so, we finally reach the walls of Fanelia's main compound. The first thing we see are two guards up on a balcony.  
  
Dilandau gives the order: "Gatti- Take 'em out."  
  
Gatti fires three crima claws, which tear through the wooden building- and the men, for that matter.  
  
The battle has begun.  
  
We advance into the city, and a few soldiers of Fanelia have run out to investigate. one or two of them get underfoot- literally.  
  
As we advance further, Dilandau instructs us to strike at will at any enemy melefs- but to keep our flamethrowers dormant. What we have to do first is find the Dragon.  
  
It takes the Fanelian people a bit of time to get their guymelefs out- but once they do, I am again caught up in the heat of battle. Sweat covers my brow from operating the Alseides, my pulse pounds at the excitement of slipping stealthily through the city, I feel a surge of victory every time I defeat an enemy soldier. On the surface, I appear nervous and exhausted. Inwardly, I'm in my element. I truly have my father's warrior blood.  
  
A voice comes over the communications system: "The Dragon has been located." It's Chesta's voice.  
  
"Excellent work," Dilandau replies, "All right men, start up the flamethrowers! Burn everything in a circle around the shrine so he can't escape!"  
  
I aim my melef's right arm at a building- and feel a split-second pang of guilt. This isn't an enemy soldier or base I'm destroying- It's people's homes.  
  
I swallow. "For lord and country," I say, and open fire. The flames shoot out from the arm of my guymelef in glorious plumes, devouring the surrounding buildings. I turn just in time to see, through the doorway of what must be the royal shrine, a stealth cloak being torn to shreds. Someone's been discovered- Lord Dilandau is not going to like this...  
  
The guymelef battling whoever's just been found out is unlike any I've ever seen- a truly beautiful design.  
  
That must be Escaflowne!  
  
I attempt at firing a claw in order to aide my troubled comrade, but there's a jam in my system, as I soon find out by peeking at the gauge.  
  
I advance towards the shrine. As I near it, I see that two more Alseides units have been stripped of their cloaks, and two greatly damaged. Damn. This guy's good.  The third Alseides is currently engaged in combat with the Dragon... That is until a man with a very large sword leaps between them. The Dragon turns and walks out into the Fanelian streets. But the man with the large sword has leapt upon the guymelef of my fellow Dragon Slayer. My crima claw system is still jammed, but I have an idea- I only hope my Energist doesn't overwork.  
  
I flip the heat lever to maximum and watch the gauge as the heat rises. I'll only have one shot...  
  
Almost... Almost...  
  
There!  
  
I take careful aim and fire. The tiniest bit of liquid metal, which slipped past the jam, flies on a straight and true course, slicing the man through the stomach. "Yes!" I flip the heat lever down again- My plan worked.  
  
"We've got him!" Dilandau's voice comes over the communicator, "Everyone near the shrine reveal yourselves- let's surround the Dragon and capture him!"  
  
I flip the switch in the right arm, and the stealth cloak is deactivated. I step outside the shrine. About four other Alseideses are visible, and have now surrounded the Escaflowne. the Dragon is in our clutches.  
  
When suddenly- a bright burst of light spouts from beneath the Escaflowne. A bean of brilliant white light surrounds it, and when it fades, the Dragon is gone.  
  
More Alseides units have arrived by now in order to see what's happening, and to my left, Dilandau's red guymelef becomes visible.  
  
Our commander's words seem to sum up everyone's current thoughts:  
  
"Damn!... Where'd he go?"  
  
*  
  
We arrive back at the Vione empty-handed, with two guymelefs badly damaged- Chesta's and Dalet's to be precise. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that Dilandau is less than pleased. And yet, all he says when we have returned and are standing at attention is- "Rafael- Kestrel- step forward and come with me." the two of them step out of formation with looks on their faces that show them to be just as confused as the rest of us.  
  
"The rest of you are dismissed." Dilandau adds as he turns to leave. I study his face as he says is, and all I can read there is: 'Whoever trashed their guymelefs better reveal themselves QUICK if they want to live to see tomorrow.' there is a feeling of uneasiness among the Dragon Slayers after Dilandau, along with Rafael and Kestrel, have gone.  
  
Palem finally breaks the silence.  
  
"Wonder why he took those two?"  
  
"I don't know." Migel answers.  
  
"Maybe he thinks THEY'RE they ones whose guymelefs were damaged?" Alix wonders aloud.  
  
"No." I shake my head. My eyes are still glued to the door of the landing dock, "He knows who is was. He's got to."  
  
"We'd better go report to him," says Viole. Everyone's eyes shift to Chesta and Dalet.  
  
Chesta sighs, "Ok, let's go."  
  
As we exit the landing dock and start towards Dilandau's throne room, I feel someone tap me on the arm. I look and see Julie walking next to me.  
  
"Hey," she says. i wonder why she's talking to me. She's usually just hanging around with Malenla.  
  
"Uh, hey." I reply.  
  
"Listen..." she says, "That was a real good job you did back there. You totally saved my ass, so... Thanks."  
  
"How did you know it was me?" I ask.  
  
Her face slowly shifts into a smirk, "Your shout of triumph."  
  
"Ah," I grin. But here the conversation ends. We've reaches Dilandau's throne room. Chesta and Dalet take the front and open the door.  
  
"...Sir?" Chesta asks nervously. Dilandau is in the room, sitting on his throne. Rafael and Kestrel stand on either side of the throne, looking rather smug. We were later to discover that they had been commended for good work on the battlefield today.  
  
We walk in and take a formation with Viole, Gatti, Guimel, Migel, and of course Chesta and Dalet, at the front.  
  
Dilandau knows. He must know. Still, his eyes fix on Chesta and Dalet and he says:  
  
"What are THESE two doing here?"  
  
He's enjoying this,  I realize. he's playing us, trying to make us believe that we'd actually be able to save out skins if we hadn't come forward, even though not coming would have been very dishonorable. I feel sorry for Chesta and Dalet. They're forced to explain the whole thing. by the end of it, Dilandau is leaning to one side in his seat and appears rather bored... The way he always looks when he's just heard something he doesn't like. All we can do now is wait for the explosion.  
  
"So am I to understand," he begins, not moving an inch, "That you let those bumpkin samurai damage two of my Alseides units?"  
  
The six Slayers in the front of the group get to their knees and bow, "Forgive us."  
  
There is what seems like a long pause.  
  
Dilandau stands up, "Step forward."  
  
Then, what we were all waiting to happen happens- both Chesta and Dalet receive a strike to the face. They fall to the floor.  
  
"You had stealth cloaks! How could you let this happen? Are you trying to ruin my name?!"  
  
Chesta and Dalet get painfully back to their knees, "Forgive us," they say again.  
  
"I'm only going to say this once," says Dilandau, 'I won't tolerate incompetence in my Dragon Slayers. Do you understand?"  
  
"...Yes, sir..."  
  
"You are all dismissed." Dilandau says in an almost disgusted tone of voice as he heads back to his throne. 


	5. The Scar

asalways05.html For the first time in a long time, my thoughts are keeping me awake.  
  
I've now been living on the Vione for about fifty-two moons. Most of that time has been spent as a Dragon Slayer. I'm exhausted from the battle, but my mind is flooded with memories.  
  
This feeling... Lately it's only been a whisper in my mind, forced back by the duties of training.  
  
But you know what night does with things like that.  
  
Now I am forced by the night into poring over everything that made me like Dilandau in the first place. Part of me is still trying to figure out why it happened.  
  
It's amazing. Even after what happened today... You'd think that kind of behavior would make you want to have as little to do with that person as possible... And yet...  
  
My head and my heart are in an argument.  
  
Finally, after along time thinking about it, which would have probably been better spent sleeping, I have come to a conclusion as to the main reason I fell for him in the first place...  
  
He's just so... Different.  
  
Everything he says and everything he does is unique than any person I've ever met. The way he talks- how his voice rises and falls as he speaks; the seemingly uncanny knack he has for letting you know the way he feels about something just by putting emphasis on certain words. The way he fights- smoothly and surely, with a sort of inner rage even when battling one of his own. The way he looks... Silvery white hair and striking red eyes that stand out against his pale skin...  
  
I close my eyes and try something I've attempted before... Imagining his face expressing the emotion of love. It isn't easy. Not that it would be impossible for a talented face such as his. But love is such a complex emotion that enclosing it in a single expression is unimaginable.  
  
Or maybe... My eyes slowly open at this thought... Maybe it's possible that he is not capable of love...?  
  
My heart chases the possibility from my mind. No, it's impossible. He's so young, well, as young as any of us in the Dragon Slayers. Someone with so much life ahead of them can't be so emotionally dead...  
  
He has  to be capable... It's only the barrier of military control that's keeping me from getting to his heart. But he takes down that barrier for no one.  
  
Of course, he might if he-  
  
Great. Right back where I started.  
  
I drift off into a heavy sleep. I do not dream that night.  
  
*  
  
Early afternoon.  
  
The Vione has taken off into the skies again after a quick stop at an Asturian base. I am standing at one of the large windows, which brings back memories of speaking to my father when he came. The landscape floats softly beneath the Fortress. It's a nice day.  
  
I am alone. Gatti, Migel, Corran, and Xori are in the sword combat training room. Malenla, Julie, Viole, Chesta and Dalet are in the barracks, I think. Everyone else is just sort of wandering around.  
  
"Cherandle!" Someone is running towards me. It's Alix. He reaches me and stops, "Lord Dilandau says to report to his throne room."  
  
I turn, "I'll help you find the others-"  
  
"No. Well..." his words stop me in my tracks, "...He said for only you  to go."  
  
A cold fear floods through me. Am I in trouble? What have I done?  
  
I start off in the opposite direction, "Thank you, Alix."  
  
*  
  
Dilandau's throne room is dark when I arrive. This only heightens my fear. I'm still wondering what I did wrong, and being surrounded by darkness doesn't exactly help.  
  
"...Lord Dilandau?" My query is answered with the sound of the door sliding shut, and then being locked. I jump at the noise, turn, and stand at attention, "You wished to see me, sir?"  
  
The light in the room is very dim, but I can see his silhouette standing by the door. Everything is very still.  
  
"I'm very disappointed in you, Cherandle Zarain." Dilandau's voice says coldly.  
  
"...What have I done to offend you, my lord?" If I'm going to get struck, I may as well know the reason.  
  
He doesn't answer me. I can hear his footsteps coming toward me, "It's almost intolerable," he says, "Having you  as one of my Dragon Slayers."  
"...Sir?" I begin, "What have..." I stop when he stops, standing directly in front of me. The dim light dances across his pale face. It's both beautiful and terrifying. My hands are clasped tightly behind my back.  
  
Dilandau's hand snaps up and grabs my jaw. I flinch, expecting more violence. But his hand stays in place.  
  
The look on his face is fierce, but something different is reflecting in his eyes. Slowly, it seems to spread over the rest of his face.  
  
And even more slowly- as though time itself is trying to stop- his face moves towards mine. Our lips touch, barely brushing each other at first. Then it happens a second time- a smooth, sweet kiss. It feels as if my heart is swelling, and I have to take a deep breath just to fit it in my chest.  
  
Still, even as this happens, even as everything I've dreamed for the last two months explodes into reality, I can only think of one word: Why?  
  
His face pulls away from mine, and I open my eyes. There is a faint taste on my lips, left over from the kiss. I lick my lips, trying to place it. Tastes like something my mother and father used to... Wine?  
  
Is he drunk?,  I wonder. The cold fear returns, stronger than before. What's he going to do to me? Will I be able to stop him?  
  
Will I  want to? , I then think. I feel a blush coming on. Good thing it's so dark.  
  
Dilandau begins to circle me, "You intrigue me, Cherandle." He stops behind me, and two gloved hands rest themselves at the bottom of my neck. I brace myself in case he starts to strangle me- I'm ready for anything at this point in time- But he doesn't. He just sort of rests his head against mine and keeps whispering, "You always have... Didn't you know that?" His left hand migrates upwards and strokes the side of my face gently. The touch makes my kneecaps melt.  
  
The hand on my face guides it around so I'm facing sideways. His whisper grows softer, a quiet but fierce blade cutting through the silence:  
  
"...Just as long as you speak of this to no one..." He moves again- his nose brushes my cheek- and our lips meet again. By the end of that kiss, I'm lost.  
  
"Lord, I'll never tell a soul," I breathe, and kiss him back, shocked by my own boldness. Deep down I can hardly believe what I'm doing, and yet it's too late to stop. We're wrapped around each other in a way I'd only dreamed of until now. I can't believe this is happening.  
  
A loud knocking noise breaks our bliss. We pull apart, startled by the noise. Dilandau's eyes seem to have sobered up.  
  
"Get behind the throne," he says after a pause.  
  
"Yes, Lord Dilandau," I say breathily, and obey.  
  
What the hell was that?  
  
Once I'm behind Dilandau's throne, I hear the door open.  
  
"Just what were you doing in here that requires a locked door?" That's Lord Folken's voice. I flinch, and prey I'm not discovered.  
  
"Well, that's certainly none of your business, is it, Folken?" Dilandau sounds quite put off. I have to smile. "What do you want, anyway?"  
  
"I am to receive a message from Emperor Dornkirk in the communications room. I think you should be there as well."  
  
"Very well," Dilandau sighs, "You go on, Strategoes. I'll be right there."  
  
Folken's footsteps fade away. Suddenly, I look up and see Dilandau standing by me.  
  
"Go," he says, "And if anyone asks... You were being commended for killing that Fanelian general," he adds flippantly. "Understood?"  
  
"Yes, Lord Dilandau."  
  
*  
  
I'm hurrying to get out of the Asturian underground tunnels. The Dragon has been discovered- it's trying to escape from behind the castle.  
  
After receiving the message from Dornkirk, Dilandau ordered us all to prepare for battle. We were to attack the base we had visited earlier that day, thus capturing Escaflowne, which was supposedly located there.  
  
I feel as if I'm in a trance- or as if I've just woke up from a deep sleep. Since what happened in Dilandau's throne room, everything seems surreal.  
  
I emerge from the underground tunnels, up into the flaming wreckage of the base. I look around for shimmering air, but the flames are already making that happen. I can't tell where anyone else is.  
  
"I'm out," I say.  
  
"Me too," comes another voice. Kestrel's. "Don't worry, Cherandle, I've got your back."  
  
We start heading for the cliff, where the Dragon is presumably escaping from. We arrive in time to see six uncloaked Alseideses take off into the sky. Dilandau's is among them.  
  
I de-activate my stealth cloak and push down the the foot stirrups. Activate flight mode. Behind me, Kestrel does the same.  
  
It takes us quite a bit to catch up with the others who were ahead of us. Dilandau is battling an Asturian guymelef- I think it's the commander's. Eventually, Dilandau takes off, giving Gatti the command to continue fighting- what looks like a mechanical dragon has flown from the Asturain leviship.  
  
Escaflowne.  
  
We fly off in pursuit. I take a quick backward glance at Gattim who is now fighting the Asturian commander.  
  
The chase goes on for a while, but eventually we land. Escaflowne has morphed back into its guymelef form.  
  
Activate stealth cloak.  
  
The Dragon is now turning around, trying to locate us. Eventually Dilandau's Alseides appears in front of it. Dilandau hits the Escaflowne with the arms of his guymelef a few times. Escaflowne collapses.  
  
*  
  
I don't think I realized how late at night it was.  
  
We've brought the Dragon up into the Vione. Dilandau has sent out soldiers in search and destroy teams in order to find the leviship. All us Dragon Slayers have adjourned to the barracks, but are taking turns staying up in case something happens. We're staying up in bunk groups. That was we can talk quietly and keep each other awake.  
  
I'm lying on my bed. I close my eyes, and I can still feel his arms around me. You intrigue me, Cherandle... You always have...  
  
"You awake, Cherandle?" Gatti asks.  
  
"Uh-? Oh. Yeah, sorry." My eyes open again, "You think they'll actually be able to find us here?"  
  
"Hm." Says Kestrel, "It's more possible that the prisoner might try to escape, I think."  
  
"You think he's awake, yet?" Gatti asks.  
  
"Hmm." I shrug.  
  
*  
  
I open my eyes.  
  
I'm lying on my back... The place I lie in is in ruins. It's burning to the ground. The flames lick my skin, but I feel nothing. I lie there for a while until I turn my head and see a red leather boot step in front of my face. Dilandau is standing at my side. But he's not looking at me- he's looking straight ahead.  
  
I only have one question for him.  
  
"Why did you do it?"  
  
He ignores the question, but looks down at me. The flames are reflected in his eyes, making them looks like burning coals, "Isn't it beautiful?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Dilandau looks forward again, and gestures with his hand, "It's all... burning... down..."  
  
"Hey! Hey guys! That means you, Zarain! C'mon, something's going on out there! Let's go! Let's go!"  
  
I bolt from my sleep, the details of the dream lost. Malenla's continues to yell harshly, "C'mon, everybody up! Let's go!"  
  
I leap down from bed and start putting on the top of my uniform- I'm already wearing the pants. "What's going on?"  
  
"We're under attack! Now c'mon!" Malenla shouts. From outside, I hear soldiers yelling. Gatti, Chesta, and Dalet, who are ready by now, run out of the room.  
  
I strap on my sword. My ponytail's a mess from sleeping, but there's no time to worry about that. I rush from the barracks, in the direction from which all the noise is coming.  
  
I reach the location of the action. All at once, a man breaks through the crowd. He's not one of ours. I draw my sword.  
  
We fight for a while- he's better than me, and nearly wounds me- but I'm able to hold him off. That is, until he suddenly starts to run.  
  
"Hey!" I shout. Where's he going? I start to run through the hallways in the direction I think he was going- towards one of the landing docks.  
  
"Cherandle!" I turn. It's Gatti. "There you are! The Escaflowne's gone and we can't find Lord Dilandau or Chesta anywhere!"  
  
"All right, Gatti, thanks!" I continue running. The Dragon escaped? Lord Dilandau and Chesta missing?  
  
I arrive in the landing dock. The leviship is gone by now- but someone is walking away from the landing area. Almost limping.  
  
It's Dilandau.  
  
"Oh, Gods!- Lord Dilandau!" I run to him. As I near him I can see that he is clutching the right side of his face. His glove is covered in blood.  
  
I stop a few feet in front of him, lost for words. My chin quivers, and I swallow to stop it, "Lord...?  
  
He stops. Am I imagining it...? Or does the look of rage in his eyes fade for half a second? If it does, it quickly returns.  
  
"Cherandle..." The hand on his face is brought away, revealing a long gash, running down his right cheek, "Look... Look what he did to my face!" his left hand garbs at my arm and wrenches me towards him. I find, for the third time, that our faces are a breath away. But this time, it's not the small of sweat or wine that reaches me... It's blood. I'm frozen in fear, to frightened to move; to do anything, really. If I speak, he might hit me... But if I don't...  
  
"Ahm..." I stammer, trying my best to speak, "Uh..." I slowly reach up with my left arm, "Here... You should g-get that cleaned up... Lord Dilandau..."  
  
I stop- talking and moving as well- when suddenly he rests his forehead against mine. I immediately try to think up an explanation for this- Maybe he's weak from losing blood...? I look at his right glove, which is practically dripping with the stuff. It's all over his face, too- some, even in his hair. His breath is coming very slowly and heavily.  
  
Yes, he's weak... That must be it. For a moment I feel something I never thought I'd feel- I feel sorry for Lord Dilandau. I want to reach up and stroke a hand through his hair, or whisper words of comfort in his ear. Of course I know better, but I just can't bear to see him like this.  
  
His face rolls upward, and mine with it. Our eyes meet... He does  seem a little more calm- I'm sure of it now.  
  
Seconds seem hours. But all at once he flinches and the anger returns. he pushes me away and stumbles on.  
  
I don't try to follow him. 


	6. The Sword

asalways06.html "Xori?"  
"Yes?"  
  
"Can I ask you something?"  
  
Throughout my time as a Dragon Slayer, I've found that it's best to talk to Xori if you're wondering about something in life. He's so intelligent, so wise beyond his years... Well, for me it's almost like talking to my father.  
  
"You may."  
  
Dilandau's currently in the healing ward getting cleaned and stitched up. The Dragon Slayers have all decided to just hang out in the sword combat room. Some are fighting, the rest are just sitting and talking. I'm fighting just to get my mind off things, but apparently it isn't working.  
  
Good thing I'm fighting Xori.  
  
"Do you think..." I say, and pause to block his attack, "That if someone had trouble showing... their feelings... that someone else... might get the wrong impression?"  
  
"Hmm." Xori pauses to think- and to block my attack. 'In all honesty, Cherandle... I believe that a person's true feelings will show..." He knocks my sword out of the way and holds it pointing at my face. I've lost, "...But they may not always be directly on the surface." He smiles, "Does that help?"  
  
I tap his sword playfully with mine before sheathing it, "It does," I say, "Thanks, Xori."  
  
*  
  
"Chesta!"  
  
The call makes us all jump. We've been standing in Dilandau's throne room for quite a while- the only sound had been Dilandau muttering incoherently to himself, and none of us had dared to say a word.  
  
"Come here." Dilandau finishes the order. Chesta obeys, stepping forward out of formation.  
  
POW! As quick as anything, Dilandau has leapt up and socked Chesta across the face. Chesta stumbles backwards. Dilandau kicks him, and Chesta falls to the ground.  
  
As Chesta solemnly gets to his feet and steps back into formation, Dilandau simply sits back down. There is no explanation for what he just did.  
  
Then again, Chesta was very quiet about what had happened to him yesterday... Malenla had found him unconscious outside the chamber where Van Fanel, the king of Fanelia, had been kept. Or, so she said. She might have just been trying to spread rumors. Malenla never seemed to like Chesta very much. She always used to boss him around during sword combat training...  
  
"Why must it sting so much?" Dilandau says, and again falls into his incoherent muttering. It almost sounds as if he's repeating the same word, over and over again.  
  
Eventually, another voice speaks up- Gatti's. "Lord Dilandau, maybe it would be better if you didn't touch the wound like that."  
  
"WHAT?!" Dilandau is again on his feet, and Gatti is struck. Dilandau grabs Gatti and pulls him forward, "So, you understand the pain I'm feeling, do you?!"  
  
"Forgive me..." Gatti stammers- it's the first time I've seen him break down like that- and is thrown to the ground.  
  
"My face!" Dilandau exclaims, clutching the bandage on his right cheek, "He cut my beautiful face!" As he says it, Corran, who had been on guard for news of Folken's visit to Asturia, comes running in, "Lord Dilandau!"  
  
"WHAT NOW?!"  
  
"Lord Folken, he-" Corran stammers a bit himself, "He's on his way back, sir."  
  
"Hm." Dilandau grumps. He fingers the bandage on his face, "Well, that doesn't leave me much time, does it?" All at once he runs from the room.  
  
"Lord Dilandau!" A few people shout in shock.  
  
"Lord Dilandau!" Chesta runs after him. The rest of us run out the door and watch them run off- we're lost for what to do in this situation.  
  
I had been somewhat frightened back there in the room when Dilandau was there- but now I find myself almost shivering.  
  
One swipe of a sword. That's all it took. One swipe of the Fanelian sword at Lord Dilandau's face and he plunged into a pit of insanity. He's become a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at anyone he even assumes is questioning him.  
  
Memories flood my mind. The words of my fellow Dragon Slayers come back to me:  
I believe that a person's true feelings will show... But they may not always be directly on the surface.  
  
Hey, maybe he  likes you!  
  
This time I don't smile.  
  
*  
  
I awake to voices. It's morning. I open my eyes. Most of the Dragon Slayers are already up.  
  
As I climb down from my bunk and start to get undressed- I'm hardly self-conscious about it any more- I notice something.  
  
"Hey, where's Kestrel?"  
  
"We don't know," says Migel, strapping on his sword, "Most of us just got up."  
  
"He might have gone to breakfast," Palem suggests.  
  
"Alone?" Rafael asks, "Doesn't make sense to me."  
  
As if to punctuate Rafael's sentence, the door to the barracks slides open. It's Gatti and Chesta.  
  
"Hey-!" Gatti exclaims, "Lord Dilandau's fighting Kestrel!"  
  
Those of us who are not finished dressing scramble into the remainders of our uniforms and follow the rest towards the sword combat training room.  
  
The sound of clanging swords reaches our ears from a far distance down the hall. We arrive in time to see the final moments of the fight- clang, clash, swish, and Kestrels' sword is knocked from his hands. The sword slides across the sand-covered floor to our feet.  
  
Then Dilandau notices us.  
  
"What are you doing here?" He asks darkly.  
  
Gatti steps forward, "...We were looking for you, Lord Dilandau. We didn't know where you were." I feel a mental sigh of relief run through the Dragon Slayers. Leave it to Gatti to come up with a reasonable excuse, "That was excellent fighting, Lord Dilandau!" Gatti adds.  
  
Dilandau flashes a quick smile at Gatti, "Yes," he says, looking at his sword, and his voice drops again to a quiet level... But the final word of his sentence, though spoken softly, is fierce, and it seems to echo through the room. The name of the one who scarred him.  
  
There is a long pause, in which none of the Dragon Slayers know what to do or what's going to be done.  
  
Then, finally, and without a word, Dilandau sheathes his sword and walks from the room. We part to make way for him.  
  
*  
  
We are now on our way to dinner. Lord Dilandau has been in his throne room pretty much since what happened this morning... And we can't do training without him. So besides relaying a message from General Aldelphos, Gatti drilled us on sword technique for almost the whole day. It's true that if Dilandau had found out, Gatti probably would have been in big trouble... But Gatti had seen no reason for us to waste the entire day. Besides, though he wouldn't admit it, he can take anything Lord Dilandau can dish out. Gatti's a lot tougher than most of us.  
  
Suddenly, I happen to find myself looking down-  
  
"Oh, no!" I exclaim. I stop walking.  
  
"What?" Kestrel, who had been walking at my side, stops as well.  
  
"My sword," I sigh, indicating my empty scabbard. My sword... I put it down on the training room floor to talk to Viole during a short break, after which Gatti had announced it was time for dinner. I must've left it there. I turn and start walking back, "Tell the others I'll catch up, okay?"  
  
"All right," he says, and we part ways.  
  
I arrive in the training room- but my sword's not where I left it. I look around. What else could have happened to it...?  
  
"Looking for this?"  
  
I turn, and stand at attention. Lord Dilandau is in the doorway- and he has my sword.  
  
"Yes, Lord Dilandau," I answer.  
  
"You know, you really  should be more careful with your sword..." His leather-gloved hand runs down the flat side of the blade, "...Wouldn't want to be without it at a time when you needed to fight." He is silent again.  
  
I pluck up my courage in order to speak again, "I'll try... To be more careful, sir..."  
  
"Excellent," he says, but there is no reflection of the word in his face. There is a long pause. Then Dilandau holds the sword out in front of himself, tilting it so the handle faces me.  
  
"You'd probably like this back, wouldn't you?" He asks, and pauses again, "Well, come and get it."  
  
I hesitate. What's he getting at? Finally I obey- I walk towards him, but as I reach him, he turns and walks off down the hallway. I pause, watching him walk away.  
  
But he turns again.  
  
"I thought I told you to come and get it, " he says fiercely. I quickly begin following him again, down the corridor and through another. It is a little while before he finally turns and walks through a doorway. I follow him in. That cold fear from two moons ago- was it really that small a space of time?- returns with a vengeance. This room is Dilandau's private chamber.  
  
For a while, he just stand there with his back to me. Then he turns, slowly walks over to me, and slides my sword into my scabbard. His hand hovers by the sword's handle even when he's finished the job.  
  
"Thank you, Lord Dilandau," I say quietly.  
  
I see his eye twitch involuntarily. He turns and walks away from me again.  
  
I have no clue what to do. Am I dismissed?... He isn't saying anything. He isn't doing much, either. It's almost as if he's thinking very hard about something...  
  
"I have to kill him."  
  
I start. "I... beg your pardon, Lord?"  
  
"Van Fanel." He lets out a sinister little laugh. His fingers brush the bandage on his face. He turns towards me, but he's not looking at me. His eyes seem almost glazed over. "I'll run my sword right through his puny little heart..."  
  
Oh, Gods. I know what's going on. Of course. He's been by himself the whole day and he needed to go off on someone. And I was the first one available. I sure am in for it now...  
  
The dim light adds an eerie quality to the already dark tone of the situation as Dilandau settles his eyes on me, "It's the only way I can get back at him for what he's done..."  
  
I'm standing straight and still, but I'm really shaking in my boots. He's walking, very slowly, towards me now, as he continues to speak. My mind races- but there's nothing to do but watch him. Just keep your eyes on him, Cherandle. You'll make it...  
  
"I'll destroy him." Dilandau's eyes have a madness to them that's almost unbearable to look at. But I can't look away, "Like I destroyed his worthless little country. I'll throw him on the fire and watch his corpse burn! "  
  
A sweat has broken out on my forehead. Too close, he's too close to me, I can't stand it. His hand snaps up in readiness to make sharp contact with my face. Every muscle in my body tenses, and my eyes flash from his hand to his face-  
  
Nothing. Nothing's happening. We're both still. Frozen. And then...  
  
Oh...  
  
There it is...  
  
I can't explain it, but my muscles are relaxing; I'm standing straight and tall again. our eyes are connected like focused beams. He's not going to hit me...  
  
But...  
  
His eyes flicker from me to the floor back to me. His hand snaps back to his side. he turns away, "You're dismissed," he says darkly.  
  
Oh, Gods... No! I can't leave, not now, we were on the verge of something, I could feel it. In his eyes I saw- well, something,  something I hadn't quite been able to translate. I can't leave now, we were too close, too close to... to... whatever it was. Not now...  
  
But he is, after all... My commander...  
  
NO!  Something inside me screams as I watch him walk away from me, into the darkness.  
  
In indecision, I lean against the all- and push the door button with my back. The door slides shut. I start at the noise. Dilandau doesn't move.  
  
At first, that is.  
  
"You think you're pretty clever, don't you, Cherandle Zarain?" Dilandau's voice says, icily.  
  
I don't answer.  
  
"Well," he says, turning and walking towards me again, "Let's just see how clever you are ..."  
  
A familiar light is gleaming over his face... 


	7. The Dreamer

asalways07.html It's over.  
  
The rush of adrenaline fades, but its shadow stays behind, flickering like a dying coal. I can taste the remnants of our last kiss as I lick my already wet lips. I scent of the heavy air, the smell of his and my sweat mix in my lungs, a concoction of vibrant passion that makes my head swim. I can feel his hands still pressing on my back, his breath on my face, my arms around his neck.  
  
We are caught in a perfect moment.  
  
I open my eyes. Dilandau's eyes look back at me.  
  
"You," he says, between breaths, "Are dismissed."  
  
The hands on my back relax. I start to move away, but suddenly he pulls me towards him again, "No one," he says coldly, "No one is to know about this. Is that understood?"  
  
"Mm-hm." I nod, and swallow nervously, "Yes, Lord Dilandau."  
  
"Good." The hands relax again. I roll over climb out of the bed, stand, and begin to dress. Not another word is spoken as I do.  
  
I leave.  
  
My Gods... What the hell just happened?  
  
I stand with one hand on the door, out of breath, staring at the wall opposite. I'm exhausted yet full of energy, trembling all over and yet serenly content. I feel as if I just did something terrible, and yet... It was the best thing that ever happened to me.  
  
It's very confusing.  
  
I don't know how long I just stand there looking at nothing before I realize that the thing to do right now is to get as far way from Dilandau's chamber as possible before someone finds me here. I begin to walk away.  
  
Just as I enter the main corridor of the Vione, some soldiers pass by. I feel myslef blsying. How am I going to face the other Dragon Slayers now...?  
  
My question is answered when suddenly Gatti comes running up to me. "Hey, Cherandle, there you are... We were looking for you. How come you never showed up for dinner?"  
  
Uh-oh. Better think fast. "Oh, I just went for a walk..."  
  
"Kestrel said you had gone back to the training room to get your sword... He said you told him you'd catch up."  
  
"Oh..." I say, "...he must've misheard me. I said, ah... Not to wait up. I wasn't really that hungry, anyway." Oh, great. Way to be inconspicuous, girlfriend. But at least there's no way he'll guess what really happened...  
  
"Hmm." he says, "Well, anyway, we should get back with the others... We'll need to rest up these next few days before the attack on Fried."  
  
Phew. Crisis diverted. "All right. I could use some rest right about now..."  
  
*  
  
CLANG!  
  
I barely block the downwards strike that Guimel's guymelef has dealt me.  
  
Mock battles. Emerpor Dornkirk has ordered an attack on the small country of Freid. That means training. Dilandau's been training us- hard- since sun-up.  
  
I don't mind. I'd rather be doing this than doing nothing and having to dwel in my thoughts.  
  
I'm not trying to pretend that what happened yesterday actualy meant anything. Lord Dilandau just needed to relieve some of his tension- not that it worked. Just this morning we fouind out that later in the night he had gone out and torched and Asturian city just because the Dragon was there.  
  
Why didn't you try to stop him?  
  
Because I didn't  want to at the time.  
  
Head and heart. Those two are at it again.  
  
Well, you really should've. This kind of stuff probably isn't allowed in the army.  
  
He would've hit me if I had resisted... Besides, Father said it was okay that I had met someone.  
  
Oh, and did Father give you permission to lose your virginity to a complete maniac?  
  
I shut them up long enough to get an inside shot and administer the "killing blow".  
  
Well, no... He didn't.  
  
Head- One. Heart- Zero.  
  
*  
  
Dinnertime.  
  
I've gotten used to the military menu by now- anyway, it's better than some of the stuff I was forced to eat out in the wilderness... And it's better than nothing at all, which I've also faced before.  
  
Everyone is excited and exhilerated from the training today. Across the table from me, Migel nad Viole are engaged in a converstaion about guymelef technique. I'm talking with Palem.  
  
"Anyway, I've been thinking for a long time about what you said, Cherandle," she says with a smile, "About my not having a problem with violence..." she pauses, "My Dad was an ex-soldier. He was always training me hard in roder for me to follow in his footsteps. He was the one who convinced me I had a problem with violence... 'If you keep being scared like that you'll never be a soldier', he used to say. And it was he who signed me up to be in the Dragon Slayers." She shakes hr head, "But I wound up going of my own free will. I wanted to prove him wrong. And then I realized... Or, I think I did... Maybe it was all part of his training. To spur me on. To make me want to prove him wrong. You helped me realize it, Cherandle. I want to thank you."  
  
I smile back, "Maybe you should write him a letter."  
  
"I think I will." A few people who are done are beginning to stand up and leave. The two od us are among them. "And thanks again, Cherandle... I think you have a real knack for seeing the truth in things."  
  
"Thank you, Palem." We turn and leave. I'm feeling very much at peace... I think that little moment of tranquility calmed me down a lot.  
  
The calm doesn't last long.  
  
As our small group of Slayers passes a side hallway, a hand grabs mine and wrenches me into the darkness. Another hand places itself over my mouth. The smell of leather fills my nostrils.  
  
"Not a sound," says a whispered voice. I know who it is. He pulls me furthur into the darkness and into another side hallway. The hand is removed from my mouth.  
  
My back is to the wall.  
  
"Lord Dilandau..." I say quietly, "With all due respect, sir... I must ask you someting-"  
  
"You may not." Dilandau sayd. I am about to speak again, but I stop. He's kissing me.  
  
"Mmm..." I almost surrender before I remember that my goal is to not  go through this again. "But... Lord... Dilandau..." I say between kisses. I doubt he's listening to me, but I keep talking, "Don't... you think... that... we..." I trail off. "Mmm." I say agin, and start to return with kisses of my own. I put my arms around his neck. It feels so good...  
  
There is a short pause. My eyes are closed, but I can hear the smirk in Dilandau's voice.  
  
"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it last time..."  
  
Round two- a point for the heart.  
  
*  
"Kestrel- you see anyting?" Viole's voice says.  
  
"No, nothing yet..."  
  
I look through my guymelef's eyepeice. It's awfully dark- the trees stretch like an endless sea below us.  
  
"Go get the others- We're going dragon hunting." That was what Dilandau said. When I arrived at the barracks, half the team was already in their pajamas. And I didn't need an alibi this time; everyone was so occupied with getting back into training mode that they seemed to forget I had gone missing at all.  
  
We were divided up into three groups- Dilandau took Gatti, Migel, Chesta, and Dalet. I was assigned to a group along with Kestrel, Malenla, Corran, and Viole. Vilols is our unofficial leader for this expedition. The final group, which includes everyone not mentioned thus far, is being led by Guimel. Our mission is to locate a dragon, slay it, and bring back the Energist, although Malenla says- and I agree with her- that that's not really  what we're looking for.  
  
"I think I see something," says Ville, "Okay, people, let's move in." Her guymelef begins to descend into the forest. We follow her, land, and get out of our guymelefs. Sure enough- the sound of dragon footsteps can be heard not too far off. Remembering my last encounter with a dragon, I feel my blood run cold. I draw my sword and look to Viole. She smiles at me. There's a message in her smile- "It's okay; I'm here to preotect 'ya." I smile back. After all this time I've almost begun to see Viole as a big sister I never had.  
  
She tuns away from me, reverting back to leader mode. "All right, let's go. Corran- you stay here and listen for messages. Keep an eye on the guymelefs, too."  
  
"Yes, m'am," he says with a jokey grin.  
  
"The rest of you- come on." Viole says, and we start to make our way into the forest.  
  
The footsteps are getting louder. Viole peers around a tree. The dragon is very near.  
  
"It's just a kid," she whispers to us, "It's fire glands aren't fully developed yet. This should be easy."  
  
"No parents?" Kestrel says.  
  
"I can't hear any," says Viole, still whispering, "It may be orphaned, but keep on the lookout, okay?"  
  
I can see the dragon now. It's passing us by.  
  
"Gotcha," says Malenla, her sword at the ready, "Let's slice that lizard!"  
  
"Right!" Viole nods. She draws her sword with a shhing and points it at the monster, "CHARGE!"  
  
We run, yelling like maniacs, towards the beast. It runs and screeches, a much higher-pitched screech than that of a full-grouwn dragon.  
  
"Surround it!" Viole commands, and we take spots around the dragon. I, for some unfathomable reason, wind up staring it in the face. the dragon screeches again and charges me.  
  
"Cherandle!" I hear Kestrel shout as I ruin to my right, winging the sword wildly. In a lucky swing, I cut off the tip of its tongue. The dragon stops charging. The peice of tongue rolls and flops at my feet, a smelly, bloody mass of dragon flesh.  
  
I think I'm gonna be sick.  
  
"Hey Zarain! Stay focused!" That's Malenla. She beings me out of my trance. While the dragon was sidetracked by its wounded tongue, Kestrel was able to get in and make a small slice in the side of its belly. It has now turned its attention on him- Malenla and Viole are doing their best to take advantage of the situation. I join in the fray.  
  
With a terrific leap and a triumphant yell, Malenla jams her sword into one of the dragon's eye sockets, "Yeah! Take that, dragon!" Green blood dreches her face and arms before she lands. The dragon has now turned what sight it has left on her.  
  
"We're wounding it, but we're not doing any serious damage!" Viole shouts, "We need one good shot!"  
  
"Yeah, well, maybe if you'd stop blabbin' and let us concentrate!" Malenla says with a smirk. I have to admire her bravery for staring down this dragon, and with a smile on her face, no less. It seems as if she almost enjoys it.  
  
The dragon snaps at Malenla. She lightly and quickly jumps out of the way.  
  
I turn and find myself face-to-face with Viole. Almost automatically, we look to the side. the slit that Kestrel made in the dragon's flesh gapes at us like a fish's gill.  
  
"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" Viole asks, readying her sword.  
  
"I hope so!" I say.  
  
Viole shoves her sword into one end of the wound. I take the other. And we both run liuke heck in opposite directions.  
  
The dragon gives one last feeble, cracked screech as it falls dead. We all stand in silence for a moment.  
  
Then Viole speaks, "Care to do the honors, Kestrel?" she asks him because he just happens to be standing closest to where the Energist is found.  
  
Kestrel cuts into the dragon corpse with his sword. I wonder how he can see anything when his glasses are covered in dragon blood. But he removes the Energist andtosses it over the decaying dragon to Viole, "Catch."  
  
We all stand still until the blood has evaporated along with the body. There is a far-off screech.  
  
I start, and turn in the direction of the noise. "Parents?" I ask Viole nervously.  
  
"Maybe," she says, looking in that direction as well, "But our work's done here, and it's nowhere near the guymelefs. Let's head back."  
  
We turn and walk back towards the guymelefs. We start going faster when we recogniuze a message coming in. As the guymelefs come into view, I can see Corran perches on top of his, a rather worried expression on his face. He looks up and notices us coming.  
  
"Um, guys..." he says, "You might wanna hear this..."  
  
We all climb up on our respective guymelefs. I recognize Gatti's voice.  
  
"-ione immediately." Is the first thing I hear as I climb my guymelef, "I repeat- a Dragon Slayer has been captured. Return to the Vione immediately..."  
  
"We hear you, Gatti," says Viole into the communicator, "Who's been taken?"  
  
Gatti pauses, "...It was Migel, Viole. They got him."  
  
*  
  
We're all getting ready to go to sleep- for real this time- but I don't think many of us are going to sleep too well tonight. The Dragon Slayers have become like a family, especially to those of us who have been here from the beginning. Viole is one. When I notice her lying despondently on her bunk, staring upwards, I decide to have a talk with her.  
  
"Um, Viole... You wanna talk?" I ask. She nods, and follows me out of the barracks, "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm... I'll be all right," she wipes at her eyes, "It's just that... well... Migel slept above me, and..."  
  
"Oh, Viole..." I say, giving her a hug. She hugs back, and rests her head on my shoulder. "He'll come back, okay? He's smart, he's really smart. He'll be okay."  
  
"Mm-hm." She sniffs, and I feel her nod.  
  
"Well, isn't this a touching scene." We turn. Malenla is standing in the doorway, and I would've thought her remark sarcastic if she hadn't had such a nice smile on her face. She tosses her head towards the inside of the room, "C'mon. We'd better get our rest." We follow her into the barracks, our arms around each other's shoulders.  
  
Pretty much everyone is lying down in thier bunks now. I give Viole a pat on the back, "Sweet dreams, okay?"  
  
"Yeah," she smiles, "You too." She goes towards he bunk. I go in the opposite direction, towards mine.  
  
"Is she okay?" Kestrel asks quietly, as I climb to my bunk.  
  
"Yeah. She'll be fine." I nod, and continue the ascent.  
  
I'm asleep almost as soon as my head hits the pillow.  
  
*  
  
I open my eyes.  
  
I'm lying in a bed- not my bunk. Dilandau's bed. But I'm alone in it. There's no one else here- no one else in the room. It's dark. I lie under the covers in my nightclothes.  
  
Slowly, a figure begins to materialize over me. It's Dilandau, lying on top of me on his front. He's wearing nightclothes, too.  
  
"You can't escape me, you know," he says once he is fully materialized.  
  
"But I don't want to feel like I have  to escape you..." I say. My voice is quiet and choked. I reach up, put my arms around him, and begin to kiss him.  
  
I can't escape my feelings. Even in my dreams.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Bah. School and the events of the past week have kept me from doing this. Sorry for the delay, that is if there's still anyone who checks this story for updates anymore. :-p My prayers are with those who lost family members and friends in Tuesday's tragedy. 


	8. The Lover

asalways08.html Dilandau's angry today. Not because he's afraid Migel will talk- but we are a relatively small group, and the impact of losing one soldier could be drastic. Dilandau's angry. And he's taking it out on us. Yesterday and today have got to be the two hardest days of practice and training we've ever gone through.  
  
In spite of what happened last night, Viole is being a very good soldier about all this. She's keeping her focus- or at least it looks like she is. Maybe she's really inwardly distracted... Like me...  
  
It's very hard to tell just what I'm feeling right now. It seems there are at least a thousand different emotions within me, ranging from excitement to pure terror, and they're all fighting for control. I'd like to feel happy- I'd like to feel like I'm truly in love with him. After all, what we're doing is very secret, and rather- I smile- dangerous, in a fun sort of way. But still, it's rather frightening as well. What if we're discovered? What if- worse still- he's only taking advantage of my feelings? What if he intends on hurting me? Not to mention that Dilandau's not the most stable-minded person on Gaea. This might be some kind of maniacal outburst, the result of a desperate search for release.  
  
Once again, in spite of everything, I'm beginning to feel sorry for him.  
  
Is this my destiny?  I ask myself, To be a whore for some love-deprived lunatic?  Now I'm angry with myself for letting this happen. I try to channel that anger into my work.  
  
What would Father say?  
  
That thought nearly knocks me out of focus. Father... I haven't written to him in a long time. I don't know when I'll get a chance, though... We're so busy lately.  
  
I start to clear my mind of all these thoughts. Get over it, Cherandle,  I tell myself, A battle's coming and you'll need to be ready. Don't think. Just train.  
  
*  
  
I hear myself sigh as I re-enter the world of the waking. I feel rested- more rested than I've felt for a long time. It's because of this that my mind is clouded as I awaken- I assume, of course, that I'm in my bunk at the barracks.  
  
Until I'm conscious enough to recognize that I'm not wearing anything.  
  
Oh... Right.  
  
I shift position slightly. I'm alone in the bed; I can tell without opening my eyes. Where'd he go?  
  
I open my eyes in time to see Dilandau, dressed in his entire uniform, sit down in a chair by the table in the middle of the room and reach for a glass. He notices me and looks away, staring straight ahead.  
  
"You're awake," he notes, filling the glass with wine, "Get dressed, go back to the barracks."  
  
I blink as I sit up. This behavior seems strange- even for Dilandau. "Um, what...?" I ask, and don't get any further. I'm not quite sure what I'm asking.  
  
"It's late," Dilandau says, still refusing to look at me, "No one will see you."  
  
I get out of bed and stand up slowly. Then I begin to dress- quickly. And I've just put an arm through one sleeve of the top when a thought strikes me.  
  
Dilandau looks tired. Not physically tired- his body, in fact, is being held quite straight in his chair. But his face, his eyes, are reflecting a tiredness. One that goes straight down to the bone... to the soul.  
  
I slip my right arm into the sleeve of my uniform and stand there wearing the nearly complete uniform, staring at Dilandau, who in turn continues to stare straight ahead.  
  
Thus far, I have felt angry at Lord Dilandau. I have felt frightened of him. I have felt sorry for him.  
  
Now, for the first time, I feel close to him. Even with his eyes staring coldly away from me, for the first time I feel as if I want to be close to him. As a lover. A friend. I want to ask- he looks angry. It almost stops me... But... I speak, and my voice is soft, so soft I'm not sure if he will hear:  
  
"Lord Dilandau... Aren't you tired?"  
  
There is a silence, one that weighs heavily on my shoulders. He doesn't look any more angry than he did before I asked... Is he even going to respond at all?  
  
I get my answer. "I don't sleep," Dilandau says flatly. His voice then becomes sharp, "Go away." His eyes finally flicker over to me, before traveling back to their previous state, "That's an order."  
  
"Yes, sir," I say in an even quieter tone than before. I hastily finish dressing and leave, slipping as silently through the darkened halls of the Vione as I can. It is  late at night. I can see the moons in the sky through one of the Fortress' vast windows. Hardly any soldiers roam the halls. The place is very quiet.  
  
I find my mind dwelling on Dilandau. His eyes changed when I asked him if he was tired... They seemed sad. Almost helpless...  
  
Or maybe it was just a trick of the light.  
  
*  
  
For the last few days, mid-day break has been something of a relief. We were told that last night, a doppleganger was sent out to intercept a hypnotist who was to interrogate Migel. Also, it would appear that Dilandau is not particularly fond of dopplegangers, and he's again taking his anger out on us. I don't think I need to add the fact that several of us have gotten struck in the past few days for not following orders adequately, or for whatever other reason Dilandau could think up for wanting to hit someone.  
  
I'm lagging a bit, walking in the back of the group, and suddenly I notice Gatti turn his head a bit as if he's looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He then nods to Kestrel, whom he's walking next to, and who it seems he was talking to just now, breaks away from the group, and goes to the banister that acts as a border between the walkway and the large gap that separates us from the other walkway. The rest of them keep walking.  
  
Well, this is certainly strange,  I think, watching Gatti lean forwards against the banister. I've been sensing a certain tension recently... I figured it was all caused by Migel's capture and Dilandau's anger. But maybe there was something else...  
  
No, I think. No way. They couldn't know... Could they? I look away from Gatti, face straight ahead, and quicken my pace. My mind is making the irrational assumption that if I can get past him without looking at him, I'll be in the clear.  
  
"Cherandle, we have to talk about something," I hear Gatti say, and I stop walking. Idiot!,  I scold myself.  
  
"Um, we do?" I ask, playing dumb. There's still the slightest chance that my worst fears won't be realized...  
  
"Yes." He replies, and there is a pause. "It's just..." More silence. Then, finally: "Dammit, Cherandle," he turns to face me, "We're not stupid, you know."  
  
"What?" I ask, startled by the severity of his words.  
  
"You know what I'm talking about," Gatti continues angrily, "Your disappearances at night, giving no explanation of where you've been. Dilandau's never lain a hand on you. Ever." the truth of this last fact hits me like a ton of bricks. I hadn't even realized it myself. "What's up, Cherandle?"  
  
I'm feeling shocked and scared for a moment, but before I can turn defensive, Gatti continues, "I mean, how long did you think it was going to take us to figure out?"  
  
I play the meek little girl. "Are you going to tell Lord Folken?"  
  
Gatti blinks a few times.  
  
"I don't know," he finally says.  
  
I take a few steps past him and go to lean against the banister myself, "Why is this upsetting you so much?"  
  
"You think it isn't obvious?" He's looking at me now, and I'm looking down into the gap. Gatti gently touches my arm, "Cherandle I... I just don't want you to get into a situation where you could get hurt."  
  
"Seems like I'm the only one who isn't getting hurt," I say, glancing at him.  
  
"This isn't a laughing matter, Cherandle."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Gatti's tone becomes almost incredulous, "Cherandle..." He begins to whisper fiercely, "Someday... He's going to do something to you, I don't know what, but you're either going to be terribly upset or hurt... Or both... And I don't know what I'd do with myself if I just stood by and let something like that happen." He pauses, and rests his hand on my arm again, "...Especially since I was the one who carried you out of the cave in the first place."  
  
Uh-oh. I know that touch. Don't tell me Gatti... Oh, man...  
  
"I'm very grateful to you for that... But Gatti," I say, turning to him again, "Do you honestly think that even if I didn't return his feelings, I could just walk away from him?" I smile, and almost laugh, "I mean... He's Dilandau. "  
  
Gatti doesn't seem to have an answer for that.  
  
"See you at lunch," I say, patting his hand and walking off down the corridor.  
  
*  
  
Lunch is a nervous occasion. For me, at least. Everyone seems to be talking and eating as usual, but I can feel the tension surrounding all of us, especially me. The air is thick with it.  
  
When people start getting up, I don't. I feel even more detached from the group than before.  
  
Soon, the only one left is Viole. We sit in silence for a long moment.  
  
Finally, she speaks, "You wanna talk about it?"  
  
"We'll be late," I say, and start to stand up.  
  
"Yeah. I guess so..." Viole stands up as well. "Well, y'know..." she adds, and doesn't seem to have anywhere to go with that. She leaves. I look down at the table. I'm about to follow everyone when-  
  
"So, Cherandle."  
  
I turn. Malenla, the last  person I want to discuss this with, is leaning against the doorframe.  
  
"Yeah?" I ask.  
  
"Is it true?" she asks.  
  
I don't answer; not wanting to lie, not wanting to confirm the truth.  
  
She gets it, and grins widely, "Oh my God!" she exclaims, pointing to the ground and waggling her finger in a circle, "So, uh, you two are really-"  
  
"Look, Malenla," I say, trying my best to be calm but firm, "I really don't want to discuss-"  
  
"No, wait, just hold on and hear me out, cause I've only got one question," she says, holding up a hand to silence me. She pauses. I wait. Finally she asks: "Is he good?"  
  
I stare at her incredulously at the question. But after a short pause, for reasons I can't quite explain, a sound escapes my mouth, a small, quick hard puff of air and sound. And half a second later I'm laughing! And Malenla's laughing too. Malenla! Of all people.  
  
"I knew it, I always knew he would be," she says once we've both calmed down, "Bad boys always are."  
  
"Oh, so you're some huge expert on this?" I ask, and I'm can't believe all of a sudden we're talking like this. Like we're old friends!  
  
"Well, no, not firsthand specifically," she says as we exit the room and begin walking down the hall together, "But I've heard rage can be a great channeling device."  
  
I raise an eyebrow, "So, ah, how come you never went for him yourself?"  
  
Malenla makes a "pfft" noise, "You think I wouldn't if I knew how? I mean what, was I just supposed to follow him to his room and then try to seduce him? You count how many things could go wrong with that and get back to me. But you - I mean, you were the last person I expected to do it. No offense."  
  
"None taken," I say, rolling my eyes.  
  
She leans in close, "What I really wanna know is how did you do it?  What was your strategy, huh?"  
  
"Strategy?" I laugh, "Well, uh, no, y'see, there was no strategy. It just sort of... happened."  
  
"Ah. Of course," she grins, "That definitely is the way it goes sometimes." She pats me on the back, "Well, either way, all the more power to you for getting on his good side, eh? Gods knew he had to have one."  
  
I smile back.  
  
*  
  
Dilandau orders us all out of our guymelefs. It's the same routine as when we were first called to find Escaflowne. But something seems different about this situation... A soldier enters the room and salutes to Dilandau's Alseides, just like last time. Dilandau emerges from his guymelef and climbs down, just like last time. But there seems to be a different sort of feeling in the air as we all descend to the floor of the training area and stand at attention.  
  
The thing that is causing the change in atmosphere is most likely the look on Dilandau's face. His features are set in stone. There is a pause before he speaks; icy words that almost seem to make the temperature in the room drop:  
  
"Migel is dead."  
  
*  
  
"Cherandle?"  
  
"Huh?- Oh, Kestrel. Sorry, I'll get off your bed-"  
  
"No, that's all right. I could use someone to talk to."  
  
A pause.  
  
"My whole army career has been so crapped up."  
  
"I wouldn't say that, Cherandle."  
  
"Oh, you wouldn't, would you?" I lean sideways against one of the posts which holds the bunks together. I sigh. "Poor Migel... Kind of makes you wonder how long the rest of us have."  
  
Kestrel smiles, "I think I know how you feel... I mean, it was pretty hard for me, having a father in the army and all... Never knowing if he was going to come home alive or not..." He looks at me, "...But my father's a good man. And so is your's... You really have to count your blessings in a time like this. That's the only way to get through hard times. Remember what you have."  
  
"Never surrender," I say, remembering the motto on his sword.  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
I think of my own family motto. "And eventually, everything will be reborn."  
  
"Always," Kestrel says, his glasses glinting in the dim light as his fishes his battered guitar out from under his bunk.  
  
I then remember my father's letter to me. The one he sent with my sword. The tradition is reborn, as it rightly should have been, and as it always will be.  
  
Migel will never be reborn.  
  
I sniff and blink my eyes. I see my father's sword, which hangs off of my bunk. I stand up and remove it the regulation sword and scabbard, opting instead for the stunningly beautiful sword that belonged to my father. That bears the Zarain family crest and motto.  
  
If I go down like Migel, I want to be wearing my father's sword.  
  
So I can be reborn.  
  
"Glad we had this little talk," Kestrel says as I leave the room. His head lowers, and he begins playing a soft, simple tune.  
  
I look over my shoulder with a smile and close the door.  
  
*  
  
Dilandau, along with Gatti, Chesta, Guimel, Dalet, and Viole, arrive back at the Vione later that night. None of them seem very pleased. All Dilandau had said they were going for was to "meet" with the doppleganger who had been sent out by Folken. Like the "dragon hunting" incident, there seems to be a feeling in the air that indicated there was more to the plan than was given to us.  
  
Most of us are standing in the corridor as they arrive, and my gaze shifts over the six figures and rests on Viole. I try to catch her eye- I'm ready to talk now- but as Dilandau passes me, he gives me a look out of the corner of his eye, his eyelids half-lowered. I don't quite know what it means, but... I sigh. What else could  it mean? I give Viole a smile- like the kind she gave me on our dragon hunt- and slip away from the others to follow Dilandau.  
  
*  
  
As I enter the room, I note that, as usual, the lights are out. I take a few steps in. I can't see him anywhere.  
  
"Lord Dilandau?" I ask quietly. No answer. "Si-"  
  
"They know, Cherandle." The door zooms shut behind me. I turn, "They know. How could you let them find out?!"  
  
"I'm sorry!" I say, voice panicked in the the dark, "I didn't mean to-"  
  
Hands grasp my arms, pinning them to my sides, "But... you... DID." He's leaning in close now, "You did..."  
  
That's it. Migel's death, the tension, the fear. I can't take it anymore.  
  
"I didn't. I didn't do anything." I say, defiant.  
  
"Don't you talk back! " he exclaims, pushing me several feet backwards, "DAMN it, Cherandle, do you know how much trouble I could get in for this?! I thought you understood  that! I thought you could keep it a secret -"  
  
"Dilandau, I love you! I w-"  
  
I stop in mid-sentence, my mouth hanging open, my eyes wide, muscles tensed, as though not only my mind, but my body as well is shocked by the words that just came flying out of my mouth. I love you...?  
  
As shocked as I am to have said it, Dilandau seems twice as shocked to have heard it. I can't be sure if he's angry or just surprised, but his eyes are wide, and they seem to be burning holes right through me.  
  
"Go on and hit me," I say, tears swelling beneath my eyes, "I don't even care anymore." I almost wish he would  hit me, just so I could feel like this was a normal situation.  
  
But he doesn't. After a few moments, he just collapses into one of the chairs at the table by his bed. There is another long silence.  
  
"Do any of this make sense to you at all?" He asks. There's anger in his voice, and tension, but there's also something I've never heard before.  
  
I wring my hands a bit and look down at the floor, "I- I don't know... Lord Dilandau..." I look up again, and pause, choosing my words carefully. "I'm confused, too."  
  
He's staring at me again, and he's giving me almost the same look he he did for those few moments in the aftermath of his brush with Van Fanel.  
  
"Sit down," he says. It almost sounds like an order. 


	9. The War

I sit across from him. It's still very dark, but slowly, a flicker of blue light begins to illuminate the room. Dilandau is turning the knob on the base of a gas candle.  
  
There is a long moment of silence. My eyes are cast downwards towards the floor. I can't stand to look now that I don't know what's going to happen. All at once, I am afraid again.  
  
I can still feel his eyes on me. I close my eyes for a brief moment and breathe, trying to slow my heartbeat.  
  
"Look at me." Dilandau says. The sound of an order still lingers in his voice.  
  
I flinch back in my seat a bit, and then I turn to look.  
  
Dilandau's hand still lingers by the base of the candle. He's leaning forwards on the table, and his face seems set in stone. It's almost emotionless.  
  
Words fly through my head at such lightning speeds that I don't have time to organize them into anything that makes sense. Our eyes are locked.  
  
Dilandau leans back in his seat and crosses his arms.  
  
He tosses his head in the direction of his bedside table, "Get me some wine."  
  
I slowly stand up and head towards the table, upon which rests an empty glass and a half-full bottle of rosé wine. I pick it up, and on an impulse sniff the opening of the bottle. The smell reminds me of the first time we kissed. I take a brief glance back at Dilandau, who is sitting very still and appears to be deep in thought. I wonder just how much of this he drinks in one day in order to forget things like this. Or at least push them back into the far corners of his mind. The memory of the taste on his lips lingers still by mine. It did taste kind of good...  
  
I pour the wine into the glass.  
  
Replacing the bottle to its former position, I walk to him and set the glass on the table in front of him. Without a word, he picks it up and drinks, closing his eyes. They are opened again as the glass is set back on the table, a little less full than it was.  
  
"Now go," he says, not looking at me.  
  
I'm struck by the command.  
  
"Excuse me?" I ask.  
  
"Get out." He says stiffly, picking up the glass again.  
  
I stand in shocked consideration for a moment... Then make my decision.  
  
"No," I say.  
  
The wine stops on the threshold of Dilandau's mouth. The glass is lowered and he turns towards me, eyelids lowered, eyebrows raised, a wide, disbelieving smile distorting his features.  
  
"What?" he asks in a hushed voice.  
  
The smile scares me. Can I turn back now?  
  
"I won't go." I say.  
  
"How dare you..." Dilandau's voice is so quiet now I can barely hear it. He rises to his feet, and his left hand grasps and twists my ear. My knees bend from the sudden flash of pain in the side of my head. His whispers become yells. "You little whore. GET OUT!" He pushes me away again.  
  
I stumble and fall to my knees, my face buried in my hands. My shoulders begin to shake, my breath becomes staggered. I'm crying.  
  
Thoughts, words, faces, feelings. I can't even tell what I'm really doing anymore. I leap to my feet, charge towards him, take his head in my hands and press my lips against his. My tears wet both our faces.  
  
"What-" he starts as we are disconnected for a fraction of a second. I'm pressing against him so close I feel I might knock him over. His hands are grasping at the edges of the table with what seems to be all of their might. Dilandau stumbles sideways and we begin moving towards the wall as one. As my left hand brushes through and occasionally grasps onto clumps of his hair, my right hand begins to undo the top of my uniform. It falls off with the belt that holds my scabbard and sword, and bare skin meets leather. His back is now pressed to the wall, and I to him.  
  
Up until now, Dilandau had always been the challenger. Like he was daring me to let him enter me, like I was doing it at my own risk, and if I didn't survive it, it would be my own fault.  
  
This time it is I who is the challenger.  
  
His lips caress my shoulders, and the metallic coldness of the tiara embraces the side of my neck.  
  
"Dilandau..." I breathe before our lips meet again. My hand begins to undo the top of his uniform...  
  
"Oh, God...!" We disconnect. I open my eyes and move again, spurred on by what I assume has been an outburst of passion. But I stop when I notice Dilandau looks anything but passionate. He is suddenly looking away from me, his eyes wide and his breath coming quicker than it should. I can only blame a flicker of the candle on the fact that his eyes seem to change- drastically- for half a second.  
  
In one sharp, quick motion, he's looking back at me, a dazed, dead countenace on his features. I'm frozen.  
  
Then all at once he grabs hold of me and kisses me, harder and deeper than he ever has, as if it's the last time he'll kiss anyone. As if this kiss is essential to his survival.  
  
We fall into each other. We make love. And it is pure.  
  
But not as pure as it could have been.  
  
*  
  
Morning.  
  
The Vione floats softly over the landscape below, just as it always has. But in the air is a feeling of the need for patience, and readiness. Tomorrow is the attack on Fried.  
  
It seems like so long ago that I first encountered my new friends. So much has happened since then. And thinking of my conversation with Kestrel yesterday, I realize that now is the time to get everything finished.  
  
If not everything, at least as much as I can.  
  
"Viole...? I'm ready to talk about it."  
  
We don't have much time to talk right now- only the amount of time it takes to walk to the training room- but it's the principle of the matter that counts. I need to get back in the group one way or another.  
  
Viole smiles. "I figured you would be sooner or later."  
  
A pause.  
  
"So do you love him?"  
  
I start at the sudden question. But then I realize that I should have expected someone like Viole to be so direct.  
  
"Yes. I think I do."  
  
Another pause.  
  
"I saved his life once, you know that?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Back when there were only five of us... Raphael, Migel, Malenla, Chesta, and I... We were out fighting a dragon. Lord Dilandau got hit by its tail and flew against a tree. It went for him with the spike, but I pushed him out of the way..."  
  
Woah. "Did you get hurt at all?"  
  
"No, thank God... The dragon's spike hit the tree instead... But I've kind of been on Lord Dilandau's little 'favorites list' ever since. I think in his own militaristic, twisted way, he's grateful to me for saving his life.  
  
"You know, I didn't find it too hard to believe when I found out about you two," she says, a smile in her eyes.  
  
"You didn't?"  
  
"No," she shakes her head, "I don't really know why... It's just that there seemed to be something different about you. That separated you from all the rest of us."  
  
So I was separate from the beginning.  
  
As always, Viole seems to read my mind, "Don't worry about it, Cherandle..." she says, climbing into her guymelef, "I just wanted to make sure you weren't getting hurt."  
  
*  
  
Viole snrks and turns away as the rest of us stare. Gatti, Kestrel, Rafael, Viole, Palem, and I seem to have stumbled upon a rather private meeting in a side hallway.  
  
The two of them notice us and move away from each other. "What's the matter, Zarain? Thought you were the only one playing army games?" Malenla asks bitterly, turning on me. She then turns on her heel and storms away, smoothing back her hair, which is disheveled. Chesta, meanwhile, gives us a weak smile and saunters off in the same direction.  
  
"Oooh... kay..." Is Rafael's comment.  
  
*  
  
The soft notes of Kestrel's guitar fill the air. Soft conversations carry on elsewhere in the room. I lie on my front in bed, my toes brushing the bottom of Gatti's mattress. I am writing a letter.  
  
Dear Father,  
  
I apologize for not writing to you for so long. So much has happened. There's so much I want to say.  
  
I suppose you know about the attack on Fried taking place tomorrow. It will have already happened when you relieve this. Who knows where it will go from there? It seems I'm only sure of a small number of things recently.  
Have you seen Mother lately? If you have, how is she? I hope she's getting along okay without us.  
Dad... Whatever happens tomorrow, I just want you to know that I love you, and I know you love me. I thank you for your years of guidance, your patience after I left, your acceptance when I returned to you. And for your sword. it has become my dearest possession.  
Thank you, Father, for your knowledge. And your love.  
Your Daughter,  
Cherandle Zarain  
  
*  
  
Another day. Another dawn. There's a chill in the humid air.  
  
Hardly any words are spoken as we all rise from our bunks and dress. It seems the time for frivolities and ties of friendship is over. Now there's only that military barrier. We are a team. A guymelef unit. Bound by honor and trust, but not by friendship. Not today.  
  
Of course, we all still know in our hearts and minds of the times we have shared. the memories of laughter, inside jokes that developed during long conversations in the barracks, the things we discussed over meals. There are some among the group that we consider our best friends; perhaps the first one we met upon our arrival, someone we fought during training who provided a challenge, or simply our bunk groupmates.  
  
But not today. Today we are all equal, all trusting of each other, no matter what has happened in the past.  
  
I think of them all: Gatti, the first one I met, who rescued me, who if it wasn't for I would not be here. Viole, who I consider a best friend and a big sister, who would lead me along when I was lost, who always has advice in a hard time. Kestrel, an expert swordsman and a good friend, whose battered guitar would serenade us to sleep some nights. Malenla, a new-found friend of mine, whose ice-cold wall was broken down by the warmth of laughter. Palem, a shy little girl with a heart of gold and an inner warrior spirit. Corran the joker, Alix the talker, Xori the philosopher, Chesta, Julie, Guimel, Dalet, and Raphael...  
  
The one who is gone has left a hole in the past.  
  
We fight for him today.  
  
The only one who speaks, besides Dilandau as he orders us all to prepare for battle, is Viole, who, in her usual matter-of-fact tone, sums up everyone's mutual feelings as we climb into our guymelefs.  
  
"Well.. here we go." 


	10. The Dragon

We travel to the dock and await the order to launch.  
  
Then, as though a firecracker has gone off, General Adelphos' voice booms through our communicators:  
  
"The grace of the Gods is with us! All forces launch now!"  
  
The voices of the other Generals follow- "Army of Silver-" "Army of Bronze-" "Army of Iron launch now!"  
  
Our turn. "Dragon Slayers, launch now!" Dilandau's voice says.  
  
As if to punctuate the order, we all push down on our foot stirrups. Activate flight mode.  
  
My guymelef shoots off the edge of the dock, and the duchee of Fried appears below. It's a great city, in the center of which is a Palace.  
  
That is our destination.  
  
We land on the outskirts of the city, and activate out stealth cloaks. Below us, at the bottom of a small cliff, lies a group of pools- a rice field.  
  
We wait for just a few moments. I think Lord Folken is giving Dilandau some final orders.  
  
"Let's go," Dilandau finally says.  
  
Fifteen invisible guymelefs leap off the cliff into the water. Our stealth cloaks are them removed- no use using them in water, and we can get there a lot faster flying.  
  
That is, we could get there a lot faster is soldiers from Fried weren't coming at us.  
  
Flight mode. We speed towards what looks like about ten guymelefs. When we land, the feet of our Alseides cascade the water in the pools.  
  
One of the Freid guymelefs comes at me. I firer a single crima claw, which grazes the guymelef's arm, and I jump sideways out of its way.  
  
That was a mistake- the slippery ground makes me stumble backwards just a bit, and in a panic I activate my flight mode. I fly directly backwards, mere feet above the pools. After a few seconds, I right myself and de-activate the flight mode. I fire three claws this time, crushing the control chamber of the melef- and the pilot inside. As the claws retract, the metal is torn and the soldier falls out. His blood begins to seep into the water. His melef falls and makes the water in the pools spill over into each other.  
  
I move on.  
  
The first wave of guymelefs has been defeated, but another is coming out of the castle. I prepare one of my claws into a blade. With the other arm, I blast a stream of fire into the water around me- this plan was formulated previously in order to disorient the Fried soldiers.  
  
I fly up into the air, out of the cloud of steam. Below I see the other Dragon Slayers do the same. As soon as I locate a Friend guymelef, swiveling around in search of something to strike its blade with, I swoop down, letting loose another blast of fire. I strike downwards with my blade, and am blocked. The Fried solder thrusts forward. I dodge sideways and hit the back of the guymelef with my arm. It falls into the water and slides through the pools. I retract my blade and fire another liquid metal claw.  
  
It is not long until the landscape in front of the city of Fried has been completely altered. Nearly all the water in the pools has evaporated- steam rises from the ground in billows, and fire laces the dirt, licking the bodies of dead soldiers and their fallen guymelefs. The stench of blood soaks the air.  
  
The Dragon Slayers are slowly advancing towards the castle, one victory at a time. Hardly any of us have been damaged in the fight. Which seems very odd- even if they hadn't known we were going to attack, they should've had a heavier response. Even in Fanelia it was harder than this-  
  
Or maybe I was just inexperienced in Fanelia.  
  
"Chesta, have you found the Dragon yet?" That's Lord Dilandau.  
  
"No, sir, there's still no sign of it. Most of the enemy's melef units have been wiped out. We have now occupied the castle grounds. The Dragon Slayers are about to enter the castle."  
  
A pause.  
  
"Chesta, we'll hold out position right here."  
  
"But sir-"  
  
"That's enough, Chesta! We'll wait for the Dragon to make his move."  
  
All conversation ceases as we stare up at the castle, waiting for- what? I don't know what to expect. If another wave of guymelefs was coming out, they would have attacked by now.  
  
Suddenly, there is a great rumbling, and the tower of the castle splits in two, falling and crumbling to pieces.  
  
The castle has fallen... But how?  
  
There is silence for a moment.  
  
"Our work here is done," says Dilandau, sounding very smug, "Dragon Slayers- move out."  
  
*  
  
And after all that, the treasure wasn't even in the city of Fried.  
  
Lord Folken received a message from Emperor Dornkirk- the treasure is actually hidden in one of Fried's temples, Fortuna.  
  
It won't be easy to break in- with the Duke and his son escaped, they'll be there for sure setting up a defense- probably a better one than they first had to offer. I smile.  
  
We are hidden, currently, in the mountains surrounding Fortuna. It's raining outside my guymelef. inside it's humid and sweltering. But I have to wait. I can't just get out of the Alseides.  
  
Finally, the rain wavers and stops. The mountains are surrounded by a heavy fog, hiding us still. Through the fog I can see the other guymelefs, like ghosts, standing in readiness.  
  
We get the order to advance.  
  
As I walk, I ready a claw, fashioning it into a blade. They know we're coming. They'll be ready when we get there, which means we have to be ready, too.  
  
The temple comes into view, as well as the front line of Fortuna's defense. My eyes quickly pick out two unique guymelefs among them- one is Escaflowne. The other is Commander Schezar's.  
  
As if in a great collision, the two armies meet- their men and our men, their melefs and our melefs. The bloodshed begins before anybody can blink.  
  
I raise my blade as I enter the fray, and a Fried guymelef swings its sword down at me. push away, the two blades making sparks fly in the misty air. He lunges at me again, and I block it. Our melefs are so close I can just barely make out his face through the control chamber. His eyes are glaring at me, raw, searing hatred. My blood turns to fire.  
  
I push him away again, and he stumbles. In that moment of insecurity I lunge and take off his melef's arm. The machine falls to its knees and the man falls out into the ground. A Zaibach footsoldier approaches, ready to finish what I started.  
  
I turn to the left, and my blade again meets that of the enemy's. He takes the initiative, pushing me away. I stumble but regain my balance. The sound of giant metal feet scraping on the stone ground echos in my ears as does the grinding of gears, the shouts of men, and the sounds of death.  
  
I attack. But my attack is too rushed. The opposing guymelef dodges and I fall to the ground, my bones rattled by the collision. I can feel him behind me. He thinks he's won.  
  
As quick as I can, I turn and fire the claw I had been using as a blade. It goes through the right side of his control chamber.  
  
I don't think I hit him, it if I didn't, at least I came pretty damn close. Or close enough to startle him and keep him distracted for a moment while I got to my feet again. Whatever. All I know is a second later I'm standing firing three claws towards his control chamber, which they tear through. As the retract, I can see his blood start to leak out.  
  
There is a small lull as I look around, waiting for my next chance. I prepare another blade.  
  
There comes running towards me a third enemy melef. Our swords get locked. A cry of anger escapes me as I push his sword away from mine. This soldier is strong- it took nearly all my strength to gain the initiative.  
  
But his sword comes striking down on mine, knocking it away. I swing my arm up to block a downwards strike, and the force of our blades meeting again makes my arm shake. My heart is pounding and my muscles burn. I don't know if I can hold him off for long...  
  
My knees feel like collapsing under the pressure. I feebly swing my left arm towards him as if to knock him away. I feel as if I've lost...  
  
When all at once, the pressure stops. I look up and see three claws protruding from the front of the Fried soldier's melef, slithering around like shining snakes. They retract, and the melef falls. As it does, a Zaibach guymelef is revealed.  
  
A thought crosses my mind as I watch this. This man- or woman- just saved my life, and I may never know who they are.  
  
That is the principle of battle. You trust those you can, ever if you do not know them.  
  
I give my savior a nod and move on.  
  
Another melef comes running at me. I dodge the blade by turning sideways, the the melef slams into me. I push it away, using my blade to slice to melef's control chamber in half. the agonized scream of the man within blends with all those around me.  
  
Just above the mountains, the clouds have cleared, and the sun hovers over the horizon, beginning its journey towards sleep.  
  
*  
  
The training room is cold.  
  
I'm standing in the middle of it with my uniform, but the coldness chills me to my bones. the room seems desolate, and lonely. Like no one's been here for so long.  
  
Someone is standing in the doorway. I strain my eyes to see. He lifts his face to look at me.  
  
Dilandau.  
  
He's smiling at me. A sweet smile. the kind I've only seen for split seconds in the dark, when the thirst was quenched and the passion was fading, when we would hold each other in out arms and feel each other's breath on our skin. Our perfect moments. The look touches my heart, and I return the smile.  
  
The cold grows colder. A cruel wind blows through the room from behind me.  
  
Something sharp slices the side of my neck.  
  
"Uuh--" I hear myself gasp, and I fall forward, the warm blood soaking my throat. The warmth spreads through me, and my vision blacks out.  
  
Light... A light from above.  
  
I sit at a large, round table. The first thing I notice is a gray stone stature of Lord Dilandau in the center. The second thing I notice is my fellow Dragon Slayers. They're all sitting, staring up at the statue.  
  
I look around. To my left sits Viole. To my right, Migel. None of them seen to notice the green bird perches on top of the statue's head.  
  
"We're all lost in it," Gatti is saying.  
  
"The fire went out," says Corran, sadly.  
  
The bird looks at me. Its green eyes twinkle.  
  
"It's never been like this..." Palem ventured quietly.  
  
The bird begins to fade...  
  
"Maybe there's nothing we can do about it," Viole says.  
  
...and vanishes.  
  
"We all go down in the end," says Migel.  
  
There is a long silence.  
  
I see something above, and look up.  
  
The green bird soars above us, blocks out the light for a small moment, and flies on.  
  
And yet it lives on...  
  
The voice comes from nowhere. A whisper on the still air.  
  
I don't have any time to contemplate its meaning.  
  
"Hey, everybody, get up," Gatti, still staring up at the statue, is whispering fiercely, "C'mon, we gotta go. Everybody get up...  
  
"...Everybody, get up, c'mon. We've got orders."  
  
I open my eyes. the dream is still hovering on the edge of my mind- I grasp onto it and try of keep hold, at the same time propping myself up on my elbows.  
  
"What's up, Gatti?" I ask, rubbing my eyes. What was that he said in the dream? That it was all lost...?  
  
"Lord Dilandau's given orders," says Gatti as he pulls off the top of his pajamas, "We're to report to the launching dock."  
  
I sit up and slip out from under the covers. The other Dragon Slayers are doing this as well... The green bird vanished, and then Migel said- or did Migel speak before then? "What's this all about?"  
  
"I'm not sure," says Gatti, "But it might have something to do with the fact that we're in the Power Spot."  
  
I smile as I start to undress. the Duke of Fried was killed at Fortuna- Fried's sacred treasure now belongs to us.  
  
"Lord Folken's meeting within Fried's new ruler right now," sand Kestrel, pulling on his jacket.  
  
"Hey, is it true he's just a kid?" Viole asks as she shoves her foot into a boot.  
  
"I don't know," says Julie, braiding Malenla's hair.  
  
"I think so," Palem's voice chimes from the back of the room.  
  
"You know what I think?" Malenla says, "I think this is just another Van-hunt."  
  
"Wouldn't doubt it," says Corran.  
  
"Yes," Xori says thoughtfully, strapping on his sword, "That does seem most likely."  
  
"That guy's starting to be a nuisance," says Guimel grumpily as he puts on his boots.  
  
"Well," says Dalet, stepping into the middle of the room, "If this is just another search for Fanelia's king, I say we finish the job this time."  
  
"Attack him with all we've got," Alix says excitedly.  
  
"Finish him off!" Chesta says, grinning at Malenla.  
  
"Yeah!" we all shout.  
  
"Let's hope so," I say, flipping my hair over one shoulder before beginning to tie it back, "It'd be nice to finally have old Mr. Fanel out of our hair, huh?"  
  
*  
  
"Woah. That is one huge-ass ship."  
  
I have to roll my eyes at Malenla's comment about the Ispano plant we're approaching. Apparently it's where Van is hiding.  
  
"Quite the accurate description," Corran's voice says, sarcastically of course.  
  
"Hey, when I want your opinion I'll ask for it, babydoll," Malenla retaliates.  
  
"Quiet, the both of you," Dilandau says. The communicator falls silent.  
  
The Ispano plant begins to disappear back up into a hole in the sky. But an Asturian ship remains- and a guymelef is flying form it. The shape of a dragon.  
  
The Escaflowne.  
  
A stick of lightning cracks on the horizon. The Fanelian guymelef sets down in the center of a small crater. We land around the edge- Dilandau's is the last to set down on the rocky surface.  
  
"OK, people," he says, "The dragon hunting is going to stop today." 


	11. The Wait

I stare at the Escaflowne intensely. No other guymelefs are coming. It's him against fifteen of Zaibach's finest warriors.  
  
I feel myself smirk. Does he even have a chance?  
  
Another flash lights up the sky.  
  
"ATTACK NOW!" Dilandau orders. One of the Alseideses flanking him fires five claws towards the Dragon. With a swift motion of his blade, the king of Fanelia blocks the claws. They splay out to his sides before they are retracted. The Escaflowne starts running, and before any of us can blink, its tremendous sword slices three Alseideses in half. The guymelefs melt into puddles of blue fire, sucking up with the flames what fragments of foliage lie on the ground. The arm of the Dragon smashes in the control chamber of another one of my companions. The blood spills out in torrents.  
  
My blood, on the other hand, stops cold.  
  
"Damn, he's fast!" Dilandau's voice exclaims as two more go down, "Stealth cloaks!"  
  
Click , goes the lever. The purple cloth surrounds me for a moment of darkness, and the my vision is restored. I am invisible.  
  
The Escaflowne is swiveling around, turning from side to side. It must have expected this- and he's defeated us in invisibility before. We still have to be careful.  
  
He runs again, this time off to my left. Two Alseideses appear as they are sliced in two, and melt, like the others, into flames. By this time my heart is pounding, and my breath is starting to come heavily.  
  
Another Alseides reveals its arm, readying a claw and shaping it into a large, circular shield as the Escaflowne descends on it. Its sword goes right through the control chamber.  
  
That's it, I think. My turn. I ready three claws and jump down from the small cliff to the level of the Escaflowne. Its back it to me as it blocks five claws coming its way. I brace myself as it turns. Its sword lifts above its head.  
  
He can see me...  
  
The sword comes down. In a single moment, a thousand thoughts and as many memories streak through my head. My skin burns. My vision fades.  
  
Dilandau smiles sweetly. A bird flies overhead.  
  
We all go down in the end...  
  
*  
  
"There you go. Now turn around for me."  
  
I giggle as I spin, and the room blurs.  
  
"There now, not so fast," says the voice with a smile. I stop, my hands clasped behind my back, looking up at a woman with shiny black hair and deep violet eyes.  
  
"Aren't you such a lovely young lady," she says with pride in her eyes. A perfumed hand strokes the side of my face.  
  
I take the sides of the skirt in my hands and twirl around, watching the skirt as it billows and sways. The dress is white and pink, with roses sewn along the hem. "What is this for, Mommy?" I ask as I stop twirling and she scoops me up in her arms, "Are we going to a party?"  
  
Mommy laughs, holds me close, and kisses my cheek, "Maybe someday, Cherandle."  
  
"I hope so," I say, "Cause a party is where you get to meet a handsome prince. Like in the stories."  
  
Mommy smiles, "Yes, dear," she sets me down on my feet again, "Like in the stories."  
  
"I wouldn't want a prince if he didn't know how to swordfight," I say, smoothing out the front of my skirt and looking back up at Mommy, "Knights always know how to swordfight." I dance around, waving my hand which holds an imaginary sword, "Clang! Clang! Swish! Whish! Whoosh!"  
  
Mommy clasps my closed fist in her hand and kneels down by me. She begins to pull the dress off of me, "Now, where did you learn to do something like that?"  
  
"Oh, Papa is teaching me a lot."  
  
"Mm-hmm..." she says, looking at the floor. She hands me my regular clothes.  
  
I pull on my shirt, "Yeah, and... and yesterday, he made a lunge at me, faster than he did before, and I blocked it! He said if... That I'm a fast learner, and if I get better he'll give me my own sword! And-"  
  
"Y'know what?" Mommy's hands lie on my arms and she grins, "What if tomorrow I go and buy you a nice pair of gloves to go with the dress? Would you like that?" She takes my hands in hers.  
  
"Sure." I smile.  
  
She kisses me on the cheek, "Good." She smiles. "I love you, Cherandle."  
  
I throw my arms around her. "You too, Mommy..."  
  
*  
  
"...Just tilt your hands a bit there... Good."  
  
I swing the sword down and bring it up to the next position of the sequence.  
  
"The sword is your ally. It will not betray you if you trust it."  
  
Third position.  
  
"Good."  
  
Fourth.  
  
"Very good."  
  
And... fifth.  
  
"Excellent. You picked that one up quickly, Cherandle."  
  
I smile, and sheath my sword- I no longer have to lift my hand over my head in order to do this. I now only have to reach up to my forehead.  
  
"And you're growing up fast," Father notes, "I daresay you're going to be ready to go on your own in a few years."  
  
I gasp and look up at him, "Really?"  
  
He smiles and chucks my chin, "I never lie to those I trust. Especially not my favorite daughter."  
  
I playfully smack his hand away. "I'm your only daughter."  
  
"Hmm," he comments with a smirk. He turns towards the horizon. The sun is setting along the mountains.  
  
"We should get back," Father says, as a light breeze ruffles our hair. We begin to walk, and he takes my hand. "It's always good to learn how to fight on natural terrain," he says.  
  
"How come?"  
  
"Well, you never know where you're going to have to battle," says Father, "Not that you should always be looking for a fight... But in times such as war, who knows just where you're going to have to use your skills?"  
  
"Oh... I get it."  
  
When we get home, Mother will be crying at the table. Father will send me to my room, and sit down with her for a "serious talk".  
  
There will be no more lessons after today. But Father will give me his book, and tell me to keep practicing on my own. "I cannot teach you anymore," he will say, "So you will have to teach yourself."  
  
But for now, Father holds my hand, my sword swings at my side, and the moons rise before us.  
  
Life is perfect.  
  
*  
  
I'm walking... Where? I feel as if I don't exist. I have nothing. I AM nothing. Soft shoes tap on a surface, but there is no reverberated sound. It is muffled, almost absorbed, by an empty, white space.  
  
I remember walking before... a long walk. And then; falling. The loss of something more than that which had already been taken away.  
  
I sink to my knees. And for the first time become aware of the dress. A white dress. Simple and plain.  
  
I stare at the palms of my hands.  
  
Am I dead?  
  
Looking around, I find that I am surrounded by nothing. White space.  
  
Empty, white space.  
  
But... Where has everything gone?  
  
What should be my heart starts racing. Dead?... No, no, no, no, no, no... Wait. Wait, calm down. What's the last thing I remember?  
  
Walking... But... Before that... I was with Father. I was ten years old... And before that... five. With Mother in my room. A new dress.  
  
But how can that be? A person doesn't go from five to ten so quickly...  
  
A sword the feeling of coldness a green bird smile smoke and blackness warmth and darkness...  
  
Oh, Gods...  
  
I can feel that I don't truly have a body anymore- only a soul that I perceive as a body, that I see and yet don't see, sense and don't sense, fragments of a dead mind hovering over what is left of my being. The thought of this makes my soul shiver, and so my body as I see it.  
  
But all this leads of another question... Where am I? I stand up slowly.  
  
The answer is, simply... Nowhere. Although I feel a firmness under my feet, there is no visible surface beneath me, it's as white and pure as my dress and the space around me and above me, which is so dimensionless it could be infinite or just small enough to contain me. The space is illuminated by an unthinkable amount of light, an endless, unwavering stream that somehow casts no shadow. Which, I suppose now, should make sense: I no longer have anything to cast a shadow WITH.  
  
But now that I have realized what I am and where I am, more questions spring to mind. How long have I been dead? Why, exactly, did I come here? Does Father know what has happened? What do I do now? What has become of my fellow Dragon Slayers? Where is Gatti? Kestrel? Viole?  
  
Where is Dilandau?  
  
Oh God Oh God Oh God How many went down before me? How many left once I had fallen? How many left now? Did Dilandau survive? If not, is he here, somewhere? If so, he must be more tortured than ever. I know him too well to hope for what is left of his sanity. His darkness hour yet and I am not there with him because I'm... I'm...  
  
My knees- or what I sense as my knees- collapse again under me. My imaginary chest heaves and tears that are no real soak my nonexistent cheeks.  
  
The last time I was with him... It wasn't right, it didn't feel as right as it should have. Not after I confessed... Maybe I shouldn't have. I don't think Dilandau understands love; why else would act so strangely after hearing it? Very strange... Like a battle with something only he could see. Something I couldn't sense...  
  
Does it even matter to dwell on the life I have known, now that it is gone forever?   
  
Dilandau!, my soul cries, and so my voice as well. Whatever my soul feels, my voice and body express.  
  
"Daggers and knives," I say through a weeping voice as my arms fold under and I'm on the surface in a little ball, "Daggers and knives and burning." My hands becomes fists. Is this hell? It very well may be.  
  
"Dilandau..."  
  
*  
  
Time has become nothing.  
  
I lie on the surface of my prison, staring up into emptiness. I am so lonely and empty. I have given up running. I have given up calling out names. I have given up everything except praying.  
  
And I have so accepted the fact that I am nothing more than a soul that every thought is spoken.  
  
"Please, Gods, please. My life wasn't finished yet. I wasn't done. I wanted to make him understand. He must be so alone. And my Father must be devastated.  
  
"I was fighting for my country. I was fighting for my love. Is that I crime? I want one more day to make everything right. One last day. Please." I close my eyes.  
  
"Please..."  
  
Nothing. I open my eyes. Black is exchanged for white emptiness. I sigh air that does not surround me.  
  
I can pray forever if I have to.  
  
*  
  
"It wasn't pure. It wasn't right. And it's all that occupies my thoughts. Where is he now, and what has become of the war? How long has it been? Does it even matter anymore...?  
  
"No. I must keep praying. It matters. It matters until it happens. One last day.  
  
"You know I hate this dress? I hate it. And what of my uniform? Rotting away with my body, in that field. Or burned away. Gone forever. Destroyed by the Dragon.  
  
"I hate the Dragon. I hate him more than I can say. I can hate him more than I ever hated anyone. I never really hated anyone. Not even Mother. She thought she was trying to help me. She loved me. The Dragon killed me. He destroyed me world, and the world of those I love.  
  
"But Gods, I don't want revenge. There are other things I'd rather take care of if I had another day. The Dragon fought for his country, just as I fought for mine. As much as I hate him now, I can't deny, nor change that at all..."  
  
I'm kneeling, and I lean forwards on my hands and bow my head.  
  
"I'm tired of saying please."  
  
Suddenly, I look up. Yellow... a color I haven't seen for a long time. Who knows how long. A pale, yellow light.  
  
"What--?" I look around. A shaft of pale, yellow light coming from somewhere above me. I stand, looking up.  
  
Suddenly, I feel as if I'm floating. I can't tell if I actually am, for the realm of death has no true surface. I feel myself travelling up, up, up. A tingling sensation, like I'm dissolving.   
  
Blackness again.  
  
And eventually, everything will be reborn...  
  
A rush of sound, a shot of pain, a feeling of both freedom and entrapment. I open my eyes onto think forest, gulping into my empty lungs my first breath of air in such a long, long time.  
  
I lie there for a while, feeling the grass underneath me, the air in my lungs, the light that seeps through the trees onto my face. I am still wearing the dress, and the slip-on shoes.  
  
But I am reborn.  
  
I stand, and take a look around. Where am I now? To one side lies more forest. To the other, tents.  
  
Tents?  
  
My attention is taken my by the sudden emergence of a solder from the forest. He grabs ahold of my wrist.  
  
"You, girl! What are you doing here?"  
  
Shouts come from the direction of the tents. Another soldier appears and grabs my other arm as I am dragged into the unwooded area near the tents. One solder throws me down, forcing me to hold onto the wrist of the other, "Why are you here?"  
  
I make up what I can: "I was lost in the forest... I saw this camp, and I thought I might-"  
  
The soldier who dropped me grabs my wrist again, "Well, you made a mistake coming to the Zaibach camp for help," he says with a grin in his voice, "Where are you from? Asturia?" I cry in pain as his grip tightens.  
  
"Stop!"  
  
We all look. A tall, broad-shouldered man with purple hair and green eyes has emerged from a nearby tent.  
  
"Get your hands off my daughter," he growls. 


	12. The Night

"I must apologize for the guards," Father says as we enter his small tent, "But in times of war, a country... and a people... must take precautions."  
  
"They just startled me," I say, rubbing my wrist where the man squeezed it.  
  
Father turns to me, a pained and astonished look in his eyes, "Am I dreaming...?" He clears his throat and raises his voice to a more audible level, "They told me you were dead... that all of Lord Dilandau's recruits had fallen... at the hands of Fanelia's king."  
  
"How long has it been?" I ask.  
  
"...Over twenty moons," Father says with awe, "Cherandle, where have you been?"  
  
I beat around the bush, "It's... been a long journey..."  
  
"Oh... Of course," Father says, apparently coming back to his senses. He crossed to one end of his small tent, where a teapot and cup are set. He pours the tea, "Sit," he invites, and hands the cup to me.  
  
"Thank you," I say, sitting. I take a sip. I've already decided that if I tell him the whole truth, he'll think I've gone crazy. "I don't remember much..." I say, and sip the tea again, "...Just... a lot of walking. I must have been delirious..."  
  
"You weren't wounded...?" Father says quietly; half a question, half a conclusion based on his observation.  
  
I shake my head as I continue to drink the soothing beverage, "No..." I say, "Just scared."  
  
Father's large hand strokes the side of my face. A tight feeling rises in my throat, and I try to swallow it down with the tea. The fact that I'm seeing my father again for the first time in such a long time... And after all I've been through...  
  
I sigh shakily, and two quiet tears stream down my face.  
  
Father rises from his chair and embraces me, "Shh... It's all right, Cherandle... Go on and cry. I can only imagine... I can only imagine..." He seems incapable of finishing the sentence.  
  
I put the teacup back down and hug him back, feeling like a little girl in Father's arms. I cry and I cry. I cry away all the sadness of everything that's happened until only the memory remains. And Father holds me the entire time.  
  
*  
  
"...and your mother tried to catch you, but you just kept saying, 'No! No! I want to play with Daddy!'"  
  
Our laughter fills up the tent for a few moments.  
  
"She must have been furious," I say.  
  
"Oh, no," Father says, grinning, "Those were the happy times. Before..." He trails off, deciding not to finish the idea.  
  
"Have you seen her lately?" I ask, "Mother, that is?"  
  
"No," he shakes his head, "I still haven't the slightest what's become of her... Probably remarried. Who knows?" And that's that.  
  
We exit the tent. I've no idea how long we were in there, but I know I arrived sometime in mid-day... and the sun is now drifting towards the horizon.  
  
My time is running out. Where is Dilandau?  
  
"You know, Cherandle," Father says quietly, confidentially; resting a hand on my shoulder, "It would be unfair for me not to tell you that there have been... rumors."  
  
"Rumors?" I ask.  
  
"...About Lord Dilandau," Father continues, "That he was... well, just wondering if you heard, or saw, anything... With the war going on, it's very hard to confirm this sort of thing..."  
  
I feel myself start to blush. Father notices right away.  
  
"Oh, dear," is all he says. The hand on my shoulder goes to stroke his beard as he looks away. There is a long pause.  
  
"I'm sorry, Father," I say.  
  
He turns to me again, and what looks like it might almost be a smile crosses his bearded face, "There now, no apologies," he says, "What's done is done. I spent enough time buying into all that military stuff- I'm only here for my country... Not to follow some silly regulations."  
  
He is interrupted by a great noise from up above, and a sudden waving of the trees from a nearby forest.  
  
"That'll be Jajuka now," says Father, and we turn to face each other.  
  
"I'm not in the army anymore, Cherandle," he goes on, "Neither are you." He smiles, and tilts his head towards the cliff, "Go ahead."  
  
The full meaning of his words dawns on me, "Oh, Father!" I exclaims, embracing him. I plant a kiss on his cheek and, trying to keep on the outskirts of the tents where no one will see me, run off hastily towards a small cliff, where the forest rests.  
  
As I enter the forest, I immediately spot a blue guymelef in a clearing. I see a figure hop down from the front of it, which they had been holding onto. It's Dilandau! The simple fact that he is alive fills me with elation. My mine takes no time to register anything other than the fact that he is alive and I am here, and in half a moment I have called out his name and he has turned to me, and I have reached my destination, falling against him, throwing my arms around him, covering his face- his beautiful, beautiful face- with kiss upon kiss upon kiss.  
  
"Oh, Dilandau..." I say, but my smile and the feeling inside me fades as I notice for the first time the strange clothes he is wearing, the dazed look on his face- something about him has changed. Something is different. Wrong. "Dilandau, it's me... Cherandle..." My emotions suddenly drop to near hopelessness, "Oh... Don't you remember me?"  
  
His hands- up to this point motionless- now reach up and stroke back the hair by my ears.  
  
"Cherandle?" he asks.  
  
"Uh-huh," I nod, relieved that he remembers. But what's happened? What's wrong? Twenty moons... Oh Gods, all the things that could have happened...  
  
There is a sudden burst of steam- the sound of a guymelef control chamber opening. From the guymelef leaps a dog-like beastman in a Dragon Slayer uniform.  
  
"Lord Dilandau!" He exclaims, and threatens me with his sword, "Stand back! Who are you?!"  
  
I step back from Dilandau, not wanting to make this new Dragon Slayer any angrier, "My name is Cherandle Zarain..." I say, "I am Arvin's daughter..."  
  
"Arvin Zarain's daughter is dead," says the beastman, "Speak! Who are you?"  
  
"Jajuka!..."  
  
The stern words cuts through the air. Dilandau has turned towards the beastman and I can't see his face. When he turns to me, he bears a countenance I know all too well- his face has once again become cold. I'm almost relieved to see something familiar as he walks back towards me.  
  
"You're not Cherandle," he says, his voice soft and icy, "Cherandle is dead."  
  
I shake my head, "No. She's here. I'm here."  
  
"Cherandle is dead !" He insists through clenched teeth.  
  
"Dilandau, please..." I take his hand, but he throws me violently to the ground.  
  
"Disrespectful girl!" He growls, "How DARE you address me like that?!"   
  
"But Dilandau-" I start. Jajuka quickly strides over and grabs me by the wrist.   
  
"What shall I do with this madwoman, sir?" he asks.  
  
Dilandau has his back turned, "Just remove her from my sight."  
  
"Come, girl." Jajuka starts to lead me away.  
  
Oh, what I fool I was! Of course he wouldn't believe... he saw it happen! He saw me die! But I can't give up on him!, "Dilandau, please! It's me!" I struggle against Jajuka's furry grip, "That night on the Vione... when I left my sword in the training room... You found it-"  
  
"Shut up!" Dilandau orders.  
  
"Keep quiet, girl!" Jajuka growls.  
  
"I won't!" I cry passionately. Jajuka starts to lead me away again. Dilandau starts walking off towards the camp, "I poured you the wine! I hid behind the throne when Lord Folken came, don't you remember? Dilandau, I love you!" I beat at Jajuka's arm with my fist, "get off me! Let me go! Let me-" I stop. Jajuka has ceased his slow, steady pace and is now looking at Dilandau, who has also stopped. Turning to face us, he slowly walks back. His journey seems to take forever.  
  
He looks down at me, then up at Jajuka.  
  
"Release her," he says.  
  
"But Lord-"  
  
"I said release her!"  
  
Jajuka's big, hairy paw lets go of my wrist. I shake and rub my wrist, trying to lessen the pain.  
  
Then I notice Dilandau staring at me again.  
  
I lock eyes with him and pray. Please. Please remember. Please believe. It really is me...  
  
He takes my hand softly in his, and the faintest of smiles crosses through his eyes. he then looks over at Jajuka, "Leave us," he says.  
  
"But-"  
  
"Don't follow." Then, rather forcefully, he begins to pull me in the opposite direction from the camp, towards the edge of the forest, carefully maneuvering his steps so we are not seen by the guards... Until, at last, the tress thin, and we find ourselves in a wide, sweeping field.  
  
No words have passed between us. I have no clue of his intentions- or whether or not he truly believes who I am- or what has happened to him and how it has affected him. I take the silent time to examine his clothes: A pink blouse with a lavender belt, black pants, tan sandals- strange. Very odd.  
  
The sun is beginning to set in front of us as Dilandau stops and turns to face me.  
  
"Who are you?" He asks, "Really?"  
  
"I'm Cherandle. And..." I say, trying the same words that seemed to jog his memory before, "...And I love you." I reach up to touch the left side of his face, but as my palm begins to caress his cheek, Dilandau suddenly swoons, his eyes roll back in his head as if he is about to faint, and he falls to his knees before me. I slowly follow him down, getting first on one knee, then the other, my hands hovering by him as if afraid of catching a disease- and Dilandau does look very ill all of a sudden. His entire body is shaking violently.  
  
"Dilandau...?" I ask.  
  
"Oh God, Cherandle!" he exclaims, his arms flinging themselves around my shoulders and pulling me towards his trembling figure. His voice is panicked. Frightened. Scared. "All alone... Don't leave me a-alone, Cherandle..."  
  
Pangs of sadness and pity shoot through me. Has he really been impacted so much, or is he playing at some game? He sounds- and feels- so small, and helpless... Like a lost little child.  
  
I gently fold my arms around his waist, countering his tight, panicked squeezing.  
  
"I never meant to leave you, Dilandau." I say quietly into his ear, "I'm so very sorry..."  
  
We drift apart. "You damn well should be..." Dilandau says shakily.  
  
I take his hand. The palm is covered with sweat. My instincts tell me to let go, but I realize it doesn't matter if he's sick- I'll be dead again tomorrow anyway.  
  
"Shh..." I softly stroke my hand through his hair, down the side of his neck, to his shoulder, his ribs, down to his legs and finally his knee. His trembling is starting to cease. "It's all right..." I squeeze his hand gently. "Shh..."  
  
"Would you kiss me?" he asks.  
  
"What?" I ask, a bit taken aback.  
  
"Please?" His eyes squeeze shut and the shivering starts up strong again.  
  
I press my lips together unsurely. What's wrong with him?, I think as I cradle one of his hands in both of mine.  
  
Not sure why; only because he asked- I lean forward, tilt my head upwards to meet his down-turned countenance, and melt my lips into his. I stroke his trembling mouth with mine, using my tongue to gently part his lips and caress his clenched teeth. My hands massage his; his cold and clammy palm welcomes this and massages back.  
  
When I've decided I'm finished, I pull backwards, nervously biting and wetting my bottom lip. I feel Dilandau's hand again. He's stopped shaking.  
  
"...Thanks." he says, and his voice seems to be regaining a tone that sounds familiar. The word, however, gets stuck in my ear and resonates strangely.  
  
Dilandau turns towards the setting sun, and the moderate breeze blowing over the field meets his face.  
  
My hands slide off his into the cold grass. He looks so handsome with the wind smoothing back his hair. But his eyes are so empty...  
  
What's happened to you? , I again ask in my mind. I can tell, at least, that he's ashamed of what just happened- but he can't make himself leave, or tell me to go.  
  
I wouldn't leave him now anyway.  
  
His head turns towards me, the thin, white crescent of a smirk glistening in the setting sun.  
  
"What's it like being dead?" he asks.  
  
"Huh?" I ask, and am met only by a raised eyebrow. "Well..." I hesitate. He's being so immensely confusing that I stop trying to rationalize his words and actions, "...It's very lonely." I face the sun, "And... empty."  
  
A seething breath enters Dilandau's lungs through his teeth, and he puts a hand to his forehead.  
  
"Don't... say... that word," he manages to say.  
  
"What?" I ask, looking at him, "Empty?"  
  
"No..." he insists, "Just... don't say it."  
  
"But what word?" I ask again.  
  
"Just don't say it!" he bursts out at me, his eyes wild. He shudders again, and turns away, "God.... DAMN it, Cherandle..." he says, getting to his feet, waving his arms on the emphasized word, looking down at me, "God damn it..." he turns away again, running a hand through his hair. He spins violently towards me again, "What makes you think you can just show up again like this, huh?!" he turns his back on me.  
  
I stand, "But I thought you'd want me here, Dilandau. After all we've been through-"  
  
"No, after all I'VE been through!" He spins again, his eyes furious, an accusatory finger pointing in my direction, "You haven't been through SHIT!"  
  
I push his hand away angrily, "I've been dead for the past twenty moons."  
  
"Yeah, sure," he says, turning again to look away from me, sounding skeptical- or perhaps not quite sure what he believes, "There are things worse than death, you know." he adds over his shoulder. Those final words pierce my heart. There is a long pause.  
  
"But I cam here to see you , Dilandau," I say quietly, "Not just to live again... But to be with you one last time. I thought maybe I could find out what had happened to... to everyone, and to everything, and maybe... Just maybe get a rational thought in my head for the first time in such a long, long time.... ...It's a miracle that I'm even here. I thought that you... I thought you might be happy to see me."  
  
No response comes. I turn away from him.  
  
"At least say that you believe I'm really here..." I whisper, tears welling in the corners of my eyes.  
  
A hand lays on my shoulder. Dilandau's. I face him again, my arms hanging by my sides. His hand drops by his side as well, and he stares at me.  
  
"There you go again, Cherandle," he says eventually, "Thinking you're so clever."  
  
I smile sweetly. "I am."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Well, the next chapter will, unfotunately, be the last... I'll say in advance that I hope everyone enjoyed this story who read it, and I would like to thank all those people who left me all those fantabulous reviews. ^.~ Love 'ya!  



	13. The Beginning

Dilandau takes a step closer to me, so that our bodies touch. I can feel the texture of his clothing through my dress.  
  
"So what happens now?" he asks. His eyes are gleaming with that old familiar light. But I don't want to get down to that. Not yet.  
  
"You seem different somehow," I find myself saying.  
  
Dilandau cracks that incredulous smile again, as if he finds the sound of my voice ironically amusing somehow.  
  
"What?" he asks.  
  
"I don't know what it is; but you just seem... different."  
  
Dilandau laughs- but that laugh bears no resemblance to that which I'm used to. It's quick and tense, like a wire that's strung too tight, "I really don't need this right now, Cherandle."  
  
"Well, what do you need?"  
  
Dilandau's brow furrows just the tiniest bit. He takes a breath in as if to say something, but then has second thoughts. This strikes me as more unusual than anything else he's done so far. Dilandau? Having second thoughts? Something about that just doesn't ring true.  
  
I have my own second thoughts at that point. "Forget it," I say, linking my fingers with his... But I still feel like I want to talk. About something. Anything. This is, after all, my last day with him.  
  
But then, he looks at me again, a sort of pleading reflected in his glance...  
  
...maybe there'll be time for talking later.  
  
*  
  
We head back towards the camp- Dilandau knows how to avoid the guards, and using his techniques we carefully slip past them. We climb down the small cliff- Dilandau offers me his hand as I jump to the ground. We slip silently through the tents, trying to spot the large beastman.  
  
Finally, we do- he sees us, too, but stays where he is, standing straight and tall outside of a small tent.  
  
"Go in," Dilandau says. I slip into the tent quickly, hoping I'm not seen. I can hear Dilandau and Jajuka talking outside.  
  
"I must advise against this, Lord Dilandau," says the gruff voice in that sort of 'I-really-don't-want-anyone-to-hear-this' tone, "There are already rumors, and you will need to save your strength for the upcoming battles-"  
  
"Enough, Jajuka," Dilandau interjects. Behind me, the tent flap open again, "Just make sure we're not disturbed."  
  
I take a look around the tent. There is a single chair and a small table with, of course, a gas candle and a bottle of wine, and against the opposite wall is a small bed.  
  
I turn my head to one side. Dilandau is standing next to me.  
  
"Cozy," I remark, referring to the surroundings.  
  
He just smiles.  
  
*  
  
It must be strange making love to a ghost.  
  
At least, that's how I think Dilandau sees me. As a ghost. An apparition. Every touch seems to be as if to make sure I'm really there- and even after confirmation, he still seems skeptical. I turn to face him, and he runs his fingertips across my forehead, down my face, my neck, my shoulders, to my hands- and I in turn rotate my hands so that his fingertips brush my palms and the undersides of my wrists. He touches the front of my dress, searching exploring, discovering me again, for the first time.  
  
When I shudder at the touch of his fingers to my hips, he looks at my face. Worried? Worried I'm going to vanish again and leave him forever.  
  
But that won't happen yet. I still have time.  
  
Without hardly noticing it, I too fall into the pattern of exploration. I press my palms flat against his stomach, slowly moving them up to his chest, and his neck- my thumbs make small circles on his throat. I feel the cloth on his shirt, rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger. With my left hand, I feel his shoulder and his upper arm, softly and smoothly strong from years of swordfighting. I swallow, trying to calm my body so he does not become worried again. I don't want to cause him any pain while I still have the chance.  
  
My right hand moves to his face, and my thumb smoothes up and down the bridge of his nose while my fingers stroke his hairline.  
  
"Don't be afraid to close your eyes."  
  
I say it before I even know what it means. It seems that Dilandau us afraid I'll disappear if he closes his eyes...  
  
"I'm not afraid," he says.  
  
"Good," I smile, "Then close your eyes."  
  
Dilandau's eyelashes flutter hesitantly- there's that second thought again- and then his eyes close. I close mine, too. My world falls into darkness.  
  
Our exploration continues.  
  
Dilandau's fingertips are gently traveling down the front part of my upper leg. The sensation that shoots through my body at this touch nearly makes me moan in ecstasy. My hands grasp at the front of his shirt. I can hear his breathing growing steadily heavier with anticipation- desire. So why doesn't he kiss me? The Old Dilandau would have taken me a long time ago, forcefully, as fast as he could. This new slowness hangs suspense thick in the air. The suspense gets trapped in both our lungs, making breath difficult.  
  
The fingers of my right hand get caught on his belt, and I pull him into me. My left hand gets caught on something at the base of his throat- I hear the clink of metal.  
  
I open my eyes. A necklace- his military pendant. Of course I've seen it before. But on this close inspection, I notice a change.  
  
"The numbers are different," I say, fiddling with the pendant. I look up into Dilandau's eyes as they open. He takes a look at my hand holding the pendant, then slowly draws it away, interlocking his fingers with mine.  
  
Then he kisses me.  
  
*  
  
For all the satisfaction and happiness it brings, love can be unbearably bittersweet.  
It took me a while to learn this over the course of my experience, but tonight, I realize it more than ever. The painful knowledge that this is the last time I will be with him fills me with immense sadness, and yet this knowledge spurs me on, making me hungrier for more, making me want this last experience to be more pleasurable and pure than any ever was.  
  
And yet something else holds us back- the secrecy under which we must operate out affairs. The feeling of him as he sinks deeply into me, his hands caressing my skin, his sweat and breath and saliva mingling with mine would have me screaming out his name in utter ecstasy, had I had the chance. But we must keep one foot inside the door of reality; keep our words and pleas and moans as quiet as possible, lest we be discovered. Having to leave these sounds and words quiet or unspoken makes them build up inside me; fill me to bursting. I become utterly drunk with passion long before the night is through. It swims in my blood, and claws at my back.  
  
After a while, however; as always happens, the supply is exhausted; and neither of us have any left to give, and no room to take on more.  
  
My final thought before I go to sleep is a question, and I have no time to even begin to answer it before I nod off:  
  
Whatever will happen to him; once I am gone for good?  
  
*  
  
I am pulled gently from my dreamless sleep to feel the morning sunlight filtering through the tent cloth onto my skin. I sigh and roll from my side to my back, shift around a bit, and finally open my eyes. Once again, I find myself alone in the bed. But Dilandau is nearby- sitting in the chair by the small table half-dressed. He is wearing his pants and his necklace, his feet are bare, and has once again clothed his face in that lost, glazed over, contemplative expression, and seems to be avoiding looking at me.  
  
I slide out of bed. Something at the base of my neck and my lower back is whispering; telling me that there is not much time before my One Last Day is done. I walk to where Dilandau is sitting and embrace him softly from behind. I kiss the side of his face with my full-feeling lips, and gently stroke his scar with my tongue. His hand is resting on his knee; I place mine on top of his. Dilandau turns to face me, and our lips brush each other softly a few times before he seems to decide that a kiss isn't worth the trouble: he faces forward again. Accepting his decision, I pick up my dress and put it on; as well as slipping my feet into my shoes.  
  
Dilandau may not want to kiss, but I think I know what will make him feel better. Adjusting the sleeves of my dress, I walk to the small table again and slowly fill the glass halfway with wine. The light pink liquid gently flows into the glass, under and around itself. I return the bottle to the table, and close it with the glass stopper.  
  
There is silence. Then Dilandau speaks.  
  
"Why are you haunting me like this?" He murmurs- very quietly, as if he was halfway saying and halfway thinking the words.  
  
Haunting. Like a ghost...  
  
Dilandau laughs. The Old Laugh. Low. Sinister.  
  
"Even if I did get drunk..." he says, again in that quiet, murmuring tone, "You wouldn't disappear. You never did before."  
  
I take a moment to digest this sentence.  
  
"Do you... want me to disappear?" I ask.  
  
He turns rapidly in his seat, staring at me wide-eyed as if he has forgotten I was there. Then, facing front again, he falls forwards; his forehead gets nestled in his palm, and he begins to shudder again.  
  
"Dilandau--" I put my hands on his shoulders, but his arm knocks them away.  
  
And then, suddenly- a sound escapes his throat; not quite a growl, not quite a scream, not quite a moan- like something I've never heard before. Jajuka sweeps into the tent, making me very glad that I got dressed when I did.  
  
"Lord Dilandau!" Jajuka exclaims.  
  
"DAMN IT, JAJUKA, GO AWAY!" Dilandau bursts out, his hands becoming fists.  
  
The beastman kneels at Dilandau's feet, and rests his paws on Dilandau's knees, "Sir, please... listen to me. You must calm down... It is time for the young lady to leave now."  
  
Dilandau grabs ahold of the fur by Jajuka's neck in a savage gesture, "I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE- ME-" He stops mid-scream, and his eyes seem to snap, "GET OUT OF HERE!" He pushes Jajuka away. Then he reaches up and grabs me with his arms; squeezing me around the waist with what seems to be all his strength. Jajuka stares for a moment, looking almost sorrowful.  
  
"...Yes, sir," he says in a low growl, and disappears.  
  
Wriggling free of Dilandau's death grip, I kneel down beside him. "Dilandau, what..."  
  
"Could you get me my uniform, p-please?" Dilandau asks. He winces.  
  
"Yes," I say, retrieving his jacket from the foot of the bed.  
  
"Something about him I don't trust, Cherandle," Dilandau says as I slip the jacket onto him and fasten it, his words quivering, "He's... he's all I've got, of course... But he's not... much," he adds harshly, "Sword," he orders. I run to fetch it, "Something about him makes me want to scream," he says, and I attach his sword and slip on his boots, "...Makes me want to die..." The final sentence is spoken through clenched teeth as I place the tiara on his forehead. It clicks on- and with this click, Dilandau's trauma seems to end. He slowly calms down; his breathing stabilizes. "Thank you," he says heavily. He smiles at me. But the smile soon disappears, and he looks away.  
  
He stands up; walks to the tent wall, his back turned to me. I stay on the floor, but after a moment I get to my feet too. I stand there; absentmindedly fiddling with my skirt.  
  
"You've always been loyal to me, Cherandle," Dilandau says.  
  
"I try... Lord," I add jokingly.  
  
Dilandau goes on almost as if he didn't hear me- but the smile in his voice reveals otherwise, "And you always seemed to trust me.  
  
"You remember when I fought with you in the training room, don't you...? Something always seemed strange about you. Different. Malenla, Julie, Palem, Viole... They were all professionally trained swordfighters; master killers. The kind of women who are ridiculed against for their roughness. They came to me; fell into my hands in the way soldiers normally do, bringing with them papers; written proof of their skill. While you were found..." he laughs, "Shuddering helplessly against a cave wall, with only stories to prove of your talent.  
  
"You'll have to go, you know," he adds, "I wouldn't want- you shouldn't get caught." He turns away from the wall, and there is a pause as he apparently sorts out his words.  
  
"No woman has ever been able to control me the way you did," he says, a hint of frustration undertoning his words, "I never would have allowed it... Although..." he starts, but trails off, and looks sadly at his hand for a moment.  
  
"Although what?" is what I almost ask- but I stay silent. This is his time to speak- what I've been waiting for this whole time.  
  
"You should know; I would've taken you even if you had refused," Dilandau continues, and walks right up to me, "What surprised me was that you actually returned with feelings of your own. I usually make it a point not to be surprised, Cherandle- things like that can throw a man off his guard.  
  
"And the thing that shocked me the most- the thing that surprised me more than... ANYTHING-" and here, his fingers crookedly gesture to the scar on his cheek, "...Was how much I... ended up falling in love with you."  
  
I feel my shoulders go stiff with shock. Did he just say...?  
  
Dilandau has bowed his head forward; he has placed a hand on his forehead. At first I think he's embarrassed about his confession, and I reach for him.  
  
Then he turns his face up to meet mine, and I shrink back.  
  
Dilandau's eyes are blue. Bright blue; nothing like their usual wine-red. His hair falls in a different fashion; the shape of his face looks somehow different. And the scar- the scar is still there, but seems strangly muted. Halfway faded.  
  
Then, with a sudden snap, everything seems to fall back into place so quickly I am forced to doubt whether or not anything had been different at all. Dilandau's eyes are wild, and a thin sweat has broken out on his forehead.  
  
"Get out," he mutters.  
  
I don't move. Did I just see... What I thought I just saw...? It's not possible-  
  
"GET OUT!" Dilandau pushes me away with both arms, towards the tent flap. I take one last glance before departing, and there's a message in his eyes:  
  
I'm sorry.  
  
Then, I run. I run out of the tent past the giant beastman Jajuka. I run through the maze of tents towards the outskirts, men and flags passing me on both sides; all watching me as I go. I run past my Father's tent. I run into the forest, paying no mind to the guards; finally collapsing under a tree.  
  
Then, the truth hits me.  
  
He told me he loved me...  
  
Tears of boundless emotion pour forth from my eyes, and I am crying again. Just as I begin to weep, I hear another voice.  
  
"Cherandle!"  
  
"Father!" I cry joyously as he kneels, and cradles me in his arms. "He loves me, Father, he told me he loves me!"  
  
"Oh, Cherandle..." Father's face seems caught between a smile and a frown.  
  
"I could fly, Father," I say, looking up into his eyes- emerald green, like mine. "I could live forever." I laugh, and cry, and he holds me close.  
  
"I'm so sorry I ran away," I sniffle up to him.  
  
Father smiles softly, "No matter," he says, "You ran away to find yourself... We all have to do that sooner or later."  
  
I smile through my happy tears, "You forgive me?"  
  
"I forgive you."  
  
"...I love you, Dad."  
  
Time's up.  
  
My world slips into darkness. The last thing I see if my Father's smile. The last thing I feel is his arms around me. And the last thing I thing I think of his my extraordinary luck and happiness.  
  
*  
  
And so, I have returned. Back to the white emptiness. Back to sitting and waiting for eternity to come.  
  
My soul feels stronger than when I left. It's a common theory among poets and dreamers that love strengthens the heart.  
  
Well, I'm no poet...  
  
I seem to be more in tune with the realm of death now. My spirit feels somehow connected with everything around me. I can feel the other souls that inhibit the infinite whiteness- not really names, nor any attributes of their physical characteristics when they were alive, but their essence. Their being. I can sense it.  
  
What's that?  
  
I look around. Something just- pulled at me. Like a forgotten dream.  
  
I lost it... No, wait...  
  
Where? Where?  
  
There?  
  
There!  
  
I stand.  
  
"Dilandau..."  
  
Dilandau is dead.  
  
He's somewhere around me.  
  
Somewhere in the whiteness. In the emptiness. Somewhere near- but near is as far as forever in this place.  
  
And Dilandau- Dilandau, the ruthless leader of the Dragon Slayers; the boy who took the lives of thousands without thought; whose fiery passion caused the downfall of an entire nation- is crying.  
  
Dilandau is crying.  
  
I have to find him.  
  
I dash away in the direction of the pull; hoping, praying, wishing with all my heart that "near" isn't as far as I think it might be.  
  
And even if it is... I have all eternity to run. 


End file.
